Star Wars Episode VIII: The Darkness Within
by RiouxTrioux
Summary: Who didn't walk out of Episode VII: The Force Awakens anxious to know what happens next? One author's imaginings of the complete eighth movie...
1. Chapter I

The Atmospheric Assault Lander separated silently from the Star Destroyer, cast out into cold, bleak space from the bright warmth of the _Finalizer's_ hangar like a gently lobbed bomb, accompanied by three troop transporters just like it. Ahead, an orange ball in the endless night, lay the desert planet Jakku.

The excitement on board was palpable. FN-2199 nudged FN-2187 for the third time. "This is it!" he hissed.

FN-2187 stamped his feet to ward off the chill creeping through the metal hull. Nines was right - this was it. Their first mission off-base. No more sanitation duty, no more securing the muck lines or flushing the trash chutes. Their squadron had been promoted, rather unexpectedly, just that morning. Captain Phasma had ordered them to the situation bay and explained their elevated status with all the pleasure of a leg amputation. As soon as she departed, the troopers had reported for their new gear and weapons, cheering, whooping, congratulating each other. FN-2187 seemed to be the only one to wonder what had happened to the unit they'd suddenly replaced.

Just behind FN-2187, FN-2003 readjusted his grip on his blaster and muttered, "Should've peed before we left."

FN-2199 snorted, a brief burst of static through his helmet. "We'll be back before you know it, Slip. This suppression will be effortless. Jakku's an incompetent trader's outpost, nothing to wet your suit about."

Slip reached past FN-2187 and punched Nines in the small of his back, a quick jab in his armor plating the moment Captain Phasma was facing away. "I'm not scared, moron. I just drank too much."

FN-2187 was tugging at his chestplate, trying to give his throat an inch. "Anyone else's armor too tight?"

Nines glanced back. Another static burst of laughter. "Maybe you grabbed a suit from the women's supply."

"Maybe you wish you'd thought of it," Slip retorted, sneaking another punch past FN-2187. Watching his friends joke did nothing to settle his nerves. There was a tightness in his chest he couldn't account for, and his stomach was knotted like he'd eaten elapsed rations. Around him, while maintaining the appearance of professional soldiers in order to avoid Phasma's displeasure, the other stormtroopers were practically radiating anticipation. A trooper's first mission was his first chance to be noticed. His first chance to work his way up from the position he'd received in childhood. His first chance to escape randomly assigned fate.

Sweat slid down FN-2187's forehead. It was damn hot inside that infantry helmet. The sanitation helmets were vented better, not needing to protect the wearer from the toxic vapors of blaster fire or the concussive clouds of bomb strikes. Though, with the stench of the job, the sanitation helmet vents weren't nearly the benefit they were designed to be. Slip often stuffed his with clean rags, for the truly awful jobs. FN-2187 had just learned to put up with it.

They were his best friends, having grown up together, initiated as part of the FN class when they were just toddlers. He knew a handful of troopers outside his squadron, most by appearance only. The twenty men on the AAL with him were the only people who knew him at all. And, somehow, standing there in those tight quarters with them, headed to a mysterious planet to face unknown alien life, listening to their excitement at their impending chore, FN-2187 wondered how well they really knew him after all.

Someone laughed softly and Captain Phasma spun, shouting at them to settle down! Comport themselves! Her contempt ate through the air, dissolving the conviviality instantly. She didn't mourn the absence of the previous unit; she loathed every squadron equally.

The ship entered Jakku's outer reaches and everyone braced against the press of atmosphere. The dim overhead lights began to flicker.

"Remember," Phasma barked, seemingly immune to the sudden pitching of the ship that had everyone else planting their feet. "Fight those who fight back. Corral the rest."

The walls rattled, as if the ship itself were trying to subvert them. FN-2187 fought the resulting nausea. "Who are they?" he heard himself say. "Why are we fighting them?"

The blank black lenses of Phasma's chrome mask slid toward him. Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath. One or two dared to glance over.

For a long moment there was only the concessive thumps of the reverse thrusters and the deep rumble of landing gear. The lights dimmed further, then flashed once, twice. Without using any handholds, Phasma approached FN-2187, personally modified blaster rifle resting assuredly in her armored hands. She stopped at his left side. He wasn't sure whether to turn his head or not, so he peered sideways through his helmet.

"You object to my orders, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven?" Phasma murmured coldly through her mask.

FN-2187 could see the side of her helmet, the fold of red and black cape over her shoulder, and the rigidity of Nines' back just in front of him, as he pretended not to eavesdrop.

"No, Captain," FN-2187 replied.

"Is your enemy more important than your ally, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven?"

"No, Captain."

Phasma leaned in another inch. FN-2187 could see his reflection, or rather the reflection of his pristine white helmet, in the metallic finish of hers. He realized that was all she saw when she looked at him. "Do as you're told. Without question," she growled. "Or you'll be dealt with accordingly."

FN-2187 swallowed. "Yes, Captain."

The ship shuddered, everyone lurched, some seizing their handholds with a second grip. Phasma, however, barely moved. The light vanished and they were momentarily plunged into total dark, then the glow returned, appearing somehow brighter than before. Phasma stared into FN-2187's mask, close enough he could almost hear her breathing. Assuming she breathed at all.

The comm barked, making FN-2187 jump, as the pilot ordered landing preparation.

At last, Phasma turned away. She returned to her post at the front, and FN-2187 exhaled, the breath becoming a grunt when Nines stomped on his foot. Discipline for one meant discipline for the whole squadron, and FN-2187 spotted a number of menacing gestures his way, blasters tipped threateningly. He was running a hand inside the ribbed collar of his suit, stretching his neck and trying to get some air into his helmet, when he sensed Slip leaning close.

"I was wondering the same thing," his friend muttered quietly.

FN-2187 looked back. Slip was back in formation, head tilted slightly toward the wall. FN-2187 gave a small nod. After a pause, Slip returned it.

The AAL cut through the clouds and Jakku appeared through the miniscule windows, silvery tan in the moonlight. Sand dunes shaped the horizon, sprinkled with darker shapes that might have been trees, had those grown in this climate, but what FN-2187 quickly realized were tents. Among these were small campfires, and as they approached their destination, the tents grew closer together, becoming bigger, though no less primitive, buildings. Momentarily forgetting his anxiety, FN-2187 leaned toward the window and peered out, fascinated by what he was seeing. In all his life, he'd only ever been to three planets. Including the one on which he'd been born, though he wasn't sure that counted if he couldn't even recall the name of it, let alone what it looked like.

The ground rose up and the ship slowed further. Hulking tan huts gained detail; windows, doors, even flags whipping wildly in the ship's downgusts, too fast for him to make out.

The Jakku village of Tuanul.

They landed so softly, he wasn't sure he felt it. Just the sudden realization that they were no longer moving and solid ground now rested below their feet. Metal clinked, machinery beeped. With a muffled groan the disembarkment ramp descended, admitting swirling dust and sand brightly lit by the ship's spotlights. The view beyond that metal ramp was immediately obscured, but Captain Phasma stepped out first, black cape rippling, marching unflinchingly to the planet surface.

In practiced fashion, the lead troopers stepped into the aisle, blasters held like shields across their chestplates. One by one they descended and the next row followed. FN-2187 thought he heard Nines whisper, "This is it," but it may have been his imagination. They were marching forward, blinded by the beams - they were shouting, running, firing.

Dying.

It was that fast. As if a chunk of time had disappeared, in one breath they were on the ship, the next they were scattered, attacking, attacked. FN-2187 lost track of Nines ahead of him, running into the fray. He spun toward where Slip had been, just a moment before, the screams and blasterfire filling his ears to the point he thought he'd scream back, just to block it out.

There were bodies; animals, troopers, civilians. Flashes of his unit all around, moving just as he seemed to have become paralyzed, his useless weapon clutched tightly to his chest.

Slip. Just a few steps away. FN-2187 turned, but at that moment, his friend was blasted off his feet. Like a discarded sanitation crate, his friend's body was flung through the air, landing hard upon the sand, in a crevice. In shadow.

FN-2187 rushed to his side, dropping to his knees, pressing a hand to FN-2003's armor. Words should have come, but just as he'd rediscovered the ability to move, his voice in turn failed him. Slip coughed, spasmed, shook on the dirty ground. FN-2187 patted his sides, looking for the wound, finding it beneath Slip's gloved hand. Slip's gasping breaths were barely louder than his own, but quickly, too quickly they began to quiet. Shorten. Sputter.

FN-2187 shook his head. He pressed on the wound. _No_ , he whispered over and over, inside his helmet. Inside his head. _No._

Something crossed his field of vision and FN-2187 flinched. But it was Slip's hand, dripping red, settling gently on his mask. Touching his head as he had countless times before, a brotherly pat of comfort after a hard day of work, or an appreciative push after a dumb joke.

The hand fell. His breathing fell silent. His chestplate stopped moving. For a brief moment, FN-2187 could almost pretend his friend was asleep, unable to see the blank, empty gaze on his lifeless face.

A face he'd never see again.

* * *

Finn woke with a start, blasterfire still echoing amid the stench of imagined blood, and immediately lurched with pain.

"Be still," a voice cooed, a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

He swatted it away with one hand, groping for his blaster with the other, then looked around, breathing hard. He was in a sterile room, in a building, too quiet to be aboard any ship. There was no blaster. This was no longer the battlefield.

His mind flashed forward to the present, to the last thing he remembered. Fighting Kylo Ren in the snowy woods of Starkiller Base, armed with only a lightsaber.

Clearly, he'd lost.

Doctor Kalonia peered down at him, as if curious about something. Finn stared back in confusion.

After a moment, she pulled back, and shrugged unapologetically. "Never seen one of you without a mask." She turned, and began organizing her supplies on a nearby table. "Didn't think you'd be quite so human."

Finn made to sit up, but arched suddenly against the agonizing pain that speared through him, groaning.

"Stubborn stormtrooper," Kalonia muttered with a shake of her head.

"Finn!"

Finn opened his eyes to see Poe Dameron sweep in, huge grin spread across his face, hair wild around his head as if he'd only just removed his flight helmet.

Poe always looked like that.

He stopped at Finn's side and planted his hands on the table. "Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?" he asked brightly.

In response, Finn could only groan, eyes rolling back to the ceiling.

Poe nodded sagely. "That's what I thought."

"He needs to stop being a stubborn dolt and lie still," Doctor Kalonia admonished.

Poe scoffed. "He's been lying still for ages. Come on," he said, seizing Finn's arm without warning and hoisting him into a sitting position. Finn gasped, his back screamed, and sweat broke out on his face as he gripped the table edges and tried to balance himself.

Poe grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "Better?"

The moment his vision stopped swimming, Finn shot him a resentful glare. Poe nodded, satisfied. "Excellent."

* * *

Kylo Ren had escaped capture from Starkiller Base, though not before being wounded by Rey. Finn perked at her name. But Poe shook his head. She'd left weeks ago, gone with Chewbacca and R2D2, in search of Luke Skywalker.

"They finished the map?" Finn asked breathlessly.

Poe raised his eyebrows excitedly and nodded. Completing the map had been his mission for too long to remember. Now, having succeeded, he was desperate for his next assignment.

An assignment Poe sensed he was about to receive.

Doctor Kalonia had released Finn only that morning, and very reluctantly at that. As he left the infirmary and crossed the Resistance base with the pained, hobbling gait of a geriatric happabore, it seemed every person Finn met felt the need to greet him with a giant congratulatory slap on the shoulder, the arm, the back. They'd heard of his duel with Kylo Ren, and seemed duly impressed by it, convinced of his heroism. The story that had circulated seemed to imply that he had attacked Kylo Ren of his own volition, exacting revenge for Han Solo's cold-blooded murder.

Not exactly the truth, but he didn't mind.

Once the third blow had landed, accompanied by a giant grin and a "Good to see you walking around," Finn found himself cursing every rebel he'd ever met. This was a vast improvement over the reserved reception he'd faced from others once they learned of his former position as a stormtrooper, but Finn was beginning to miss those days.

For one thing, they were far less painful.

As quickly as he could, Poe had informed his friend about what had happened since Starkiller was destroyed. While Finn was fighting nightmares of his traumatizing time under Captain Phasma's command, the First Order and the Resistance had regrouped, the latter on D'Qar, and the First Order to a location of unknown identity.

"Until now," Poe said, poking Finn in the chest. "Now we know exactly where they are. And now," he added with one more irritating poke, "we ship out."

Finn batted him away. "Now?" he asked incredulously, following Poe as he led the way past one guarded door after another, and into the base's central command.

Poe shrugged. "The world didn't stop working when you did."

Command was bustling. General Leia Organa stood among admirals, majors, commanders, and everyone who worked below these. While perhaps not as tall as most of the humans and aliens present, the general had complete authority over the room. At her order, a holographic map of a distant system of stars and planets appeared above the strategy board. Almost instantly, activity in the center ceased and all attention was on their leader.

Pointing to a small world of oblong shape, General Organa announced, "The First Order is here. Domandari." A tech hit some buttons and the graphic expanded, while the other stars and planets fell away. "A partially settled mining colony in the Neutral Territories, the First Order has quickly and effectively taken control and are killing civilians indiscriminately, removing any who offer opposition."

Admiral Ackbar growled. "How do we know this?"

"Citizens of Domandari who have escaped have made reports detailing the atrocities on their home planet. The First Order is already working on establishing a command base there."

Major Brance stepped forward and began detailing the terrain of Domandari, explaining its metal stores and divided populace of impoverished slave laborers and wealthy mine owners.

Finn had stopped listening. Too young to have been present at the groundbreaking of Starkiller Base, he had still heard stories of how the First Order had seized control of the forested planet, eviscerating the indigenous population and destroying the two nearest suns during practice tests for its devastating weapon, plunging the climate into year-round winter.

No one escaped the First Order.

No one except him, that is. Certainly not slaves and metal merchants caught by surprise in the Neutral Territories.

"How did the Domandarians find us to make these reports?"

The room fell silent at his question. All eyes turned to him. Admiral Statura, who had been providing a verbal list of ships and pilots capable of fighting, appeared vaguely annoyed at the interruption. General Organa, on the other hand, studied Finn briefly with a calculating look. Unless he was mistaken, and there was a very good chance that he was, the general was secretly pleased by his inquiry.

With a soft-spoken command, Leia ordered Statura to complete his report. Once done, she thanked him and dismissed the others, sending all unnecessary personnel out of the room. Finn turned to go as well, but she caught his eye and shook her head slightly. To his surprise, he was left alone with her, Ackbar, Statura and Poe when the blast door slid shut.

"They were sent to us," Leia said without preamble. "By someone working inside the First Order."

Beside him, Poe murmured the disbelief that momentarily rendered Finn mute. "There's a spy in the First Order?" he choked out when he found his voice again.

"Very highly placed," Leia confirmed. "Put there by my predecessor, General Enborn, and, unfortunately, their exact identity died with him. But the intelligence we've received over the years has been extremely reliable, and the Domandarians' reports all match what we know."

 _Years._ A spy in the highest ranks of the Order.

Finn struggled to comprehend it.

"This morning," Leia continued, indicating the map, "we received the most distressing message to date. The people of Domandari are being annihilated, and with the Republic crippled, there is no one left to stand up for them. No one to resist them. Except us."

"But our forces were decimated in the fight over Starkiller Base," Finn cut in. "We have too few resources to attack them now."

"The First Order is weak as well," Leia pointed out patiently. "They are acting out of desperation, attacking a neutral planet in hopes of establishing a base. Desperation leads to poor decisions, and poor defenses."

Before Finn could respond, Leia continued, "We do not have the strength for an aerial assault, that is true. But we do have the ability to use the chaos on the ground to our advantage. Poe, you will take a team with you to the location Major Brance cited in his address. Report back to me what you find there, and be prepared to intercede if the opportunity arises."

Poe gave a short nod, already eager to begin. "Yes, General."

Incredibly, General Organa turned to Finn. "And how are you, Finn?"

He nodded solemnly, standing a bit straighter. "Ready to help."

"Doctor Kalonia released him a short time ago."

Leia looked at Poe for a moment, then back at Finn. "Good," she said simply. "Get what you need from the wares techs. You leave in the morning."


	2. Chapter II

BB-8 peered cautiously around the corner, antennae on full alert. The corridor ahead was empty, the bustling sounds of the base preparing for the next day's departure to Domandari were, at the moment, far away. Beeping softly, almost as if to bolster himself, he rolled slowly into the hall, head swiveling every way possible, alert for an ambush.

As the small droid passed a recessed doorway, arms shot out and seized it, drawing it into the room beyond, BB-8 whistling in panicked fear.

Finn pinned BB-8 against the floor, holding him in place with an unyielding hug. "Tell me where Rey is!" he demanded.

This confrontation was the unfortunate result of a day spent stalking the rotund astromech throughout the base. Maintenance bays, storehouses, the landing strip... At some point Finn had realized the droid had grown aware of his intentions and had been actively avoiding him. Finally, his chance had come to pounce, and now here he held BB-8 down in a storage closet. "Tell me!" he demanded again.

BB-8 trilled in its shrill droidspeak. Finn had no idea what it was saying. He shook BB-8 hard. "I know you have the map, droid. Show me where she is!"

"Can I help, sir?"

In the doorway stood C3PO, head tilted quizzically as he observed Finn on the floor, his hands strangling the space where BB-8's cranial capsule met his body.

Finn blinked. "Yes," he replied, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary going on. "Have him tell me where Rey is, please."

The smaller droid squealed rapidly. C3P0 did his stiff walk up to it, and bopped it on the head. "Tell the man where Rey is, you little ball of nuisance!"

BB-8 trilled what was obviously a droid objection.

"Under whose orders?" C3PO demanded.

BB-8 grumbled back. C3P0 turned abruptly to Finn. "It seems he's been ordered not to speak to you."

"To me?"

"To anyone," C3P0 clarified, clearly flustered. "Under Poe Dameron's expressed command."

BB-8 whistled back. Suddenly a cable shot out from his side, the lead at the end burying in the wall by a shelf. Before anyone could react, BB-8 retracted the cable hard and popped out of Finn's grip. Finn scrambled after the droid, but it whirred away. "BeeBee-Ate!" he shouted, just missing it as it slipped away, whistling as it winged out of the room.

Poe was standing there now, laughing silently behind the back of his hand. Finn frowned hard, sitting back on his heels and wiping his hands on his shirt. "Stupid droid."

"Well," C3P0 huffed, spinning on his heel and marching woodenly from the room. "How rude."

"Not _you!_ " Finn shouted after him.

Poe just laughed harder. Finn shook his head, exasperated. "Where I come from, droids don't have feelings." He climbed carefully to his feet, wincing as his wounds protested. "Or disobey. Never before realized how nice that was."

"Mindless obedience has its disadvantages too, don't you think?" Poe replied, eyes still laughing.

Finn crossed his arms. "Why did you tell BeeBee-Ate not to talk to me?"

"To _anyone_ ," Poe clarified, turning serious. "There aren't many on this base who know where Rey is. Where Luke Skywalker is."

"Where is she?"

Maddeningly, Poe just shook his head. "She's fine, Finn. She's with Chewbacca. We need you here. On this mission tomorrow."

He knew that. He knew he alone held unique knowledge of the First Order's procedures and tactics. But Poe was the only person in that room looking forward to this journey. In fact, the Resistance pilot was downright excited about his new assignment, reminding Finn uncomfortably of Nines, the day of the Jakku invasion.

Finn knew he had no choice. No right to be reluctant, when he saw what the other rebels were risking to go, to aid Domandari in its time of need. In the interval of time since meeting Poe, Finn had defied his training, gained a name, crossed a desert, stolen no less than two ships, fought countless stormtroopers, Kylo Ren, even a giant sucking Rathtar. One would think he would have nothing to be scared of. Not anymore.

But Finn couldn't seem to shake the memories of Jakku and of his friend, FN-2003, dying in his arms. The image clung to him like a wraith, reaching out with bloodied hands anytime he closed his eyes, saying, _"Run. Run, or you're next."_


	3. Chapter III

Lady Avenell glowered at her visitor, a man renowned in the galaxy and most likely galaxies far, far away, who had defeated the Empire, reinstated the Jedi Order, singlehandedly facilitated the downfall of the emperor.

She was wholly unimpressed. He dressed like a vagrant and spoke much too slowly for her taste. Slow speaking suggested a feebleness of mind, or, worse, an indomitable patience for absolutely everything. Very little existed in the known world which deserved such patience, in Lady Avenell's opinion. She resented the assumption that, simply due to her inferior position here on this horrid planet, she was not able to receive guests of greater distinction. Royalty, for instance. Or military leaders.

"What did you say your name was again?" she asked coldly, though she remembered what the man had said quite well, and of course knew him by his reputation. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was starstruck.

"Skywalker," the man replied graciously. With an irritating languidness. "Luke Skywalker."

Lady Avenell adjusted the skirt of her gown and tried to appear as if the name meant nothing to her, but the effect was promptly ruined by her son, who leaned forward in his seat and eagerly asked, "Are you saying _I_ could be a Jedi? Like you?"

Devrun was a handsome boy of twelve, proud as his mother but already with his father's height and Imperial ambition. Her husband had led his own command in the Empire's army, a charming life with prestige and riches, before the Galactic Concordance gave everything the Empire had worked for to the New Republic. Through no fault of her own, Lady Avenell had found herself fleeing on a dirty transport ship when those rebels - led in part by the vagabond sitting on the fine lounger before her - won the war. Exiled, friendless, her worthless husband had found them a place on Jakku, an appalling waste of a planet, and absolutely beneath their esteem. Terrible weather, worse inhabitants. With absolutely zero opportunities for their children.

That's what the robed Jedi was offering Devrun. An opportunity. Avenell's husband would swallow hot coal before allowing his only son to join a Jedi academy. But he was not here to say no. And Devrun deserved the best. Something he wouldn't find on this wretched sandtrap.

"Devrun's father was an Imperial commander," Lady Avenell stated plainly, testing her guest.

Skywalker merely tilted his head. "The Force does not choose sides. It is those gifted with the ability to wield it who do the choosing."

The Force. Avenell was skeptical, to understate it. It ran in families, Skywalker had said. No possibility existed there was power of that type on Devrun's father's side. And Avenell was certain there was no way it ran in hers. But Devrun could be very powerful, Skywalker had insisted. He possessed an academy and could train him. Devrun would be educated, sophisticated, exposed to circumstances and social structures from which Avenell had been forever barred.

But there remained another possible explanation why Skywalker would want Devrun. Avenell arched a dubious brow. "We are the wealthiest inhabitants of this planet and easily the ten nearest as well," she exaggerated effortlessly. "We have been approached by others with pretty ideas like yours, Master Skywalker."

The man was not easily offended. "It will cost you and your family nothing, Lady Avenell. The Jedi have no desire for profit."

She frowned harder to hide the excitement which quickened her heart. Devrun misread the hesitation and touched her arm. "Let me go, mother. Please? To be a Jedi..."

At that moment Luke felt a presence behind him. He turned to see a little girl crouching behind the lounger, one small hand stretching out to touch the saber at his side.

"Rey," her mother barked. "Don't touch."

The girl did not cower, but looked up and met Luke's gaze. She had soft brown hair and soulful eyes in a pale, round face. He smiled kindly. "It's fine," he assured Lady Avenell without taking his eyes from Rey's. The power of the Force in that room was now astounding, and Luke was momentarily taken aback.

Lady Avenell, with her keen attention, didn't miss this reaction. "Is there room for two at that academy?" she purred.

Luke concentrated for a moment, envisioning his path and this little girl's, seeing it diverge, then unite again in some distant future.

He shook his head and smiled at Rey. "She'll find me when she's ready."

* * *

Rey woke, as usual, to the oppressive sound of waves crashing against the base of the cliffs outside, as if terribly angry and seeking endless, ineffectual revenge.

The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was the lightsaber, resting innocuously on the small box beside her cot. She shoved it away in disgust. Every night it affected her dreams, making her see things - some memories, some premonitions. Some real, some false. Watching her mother and brother fly away from her for the last time, a memory she never wanted to recall but now faced every time she closed her eyes. Bringing to mind the years those who were tasked with caring for her pilfered the family's belongings, neglected her, left her destitute and alone. The best of which had taught her everything she knew about ship mechanics, the worst leaving her living in the sandfields of Jakku scrambling for survival.

Above the box, on the canvas wall of her tent, were tic marks, drawn by her hand in soft clay. Already half a dozen. She'd had a brief respite during her adventures with Finn, on the _Millennium Falcon_ and the _Eravana_ , cheating death on Jakku and Starkiller, finding friends on Takodana and D'Qar. Now she was back to waiting. Waiting for anything. Counting down the days until something happened.

The worst part was, she didn't know if what she was waiting for would bring death, or salvation.

She'd expected to be trained by Luke, to be taught the way of the Force, to be shown how to use these powers she'd discovered within herself. But he'd refused. Without explanation, without apology, he stated that he wouldn't risk that again. He'd allowed Rey and Chewbacca to stay on this unnamed world just long enough to make necessary repairs to the _Millennium Falcon_ , then they were to leave and never return.

So now here she found herself, waking again in a place she wasn't welcome, far away from the place she was needed, farther still from the place she wanted to be.

Rey rose from the low cot and stretched.

Remembering the dream, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than that. More than a confluence of people from her past and her present.

She looked again at the lightsaber.

Luke refused to accept it, so here it sat, always in this tent, unwanted and alone. Rey frowned before she risked feeling empathy with an inanimate object and pushed her way through the tent flap into the blinding sun.

If she took ten more steps in three directions, she'd fall into the sea. The greenery here was no rival for the lush forests of Takodana, but the land was breathtaking in its own right. The deep and unknowable sea, stretching forever beyond this tiny outcropping which dared to stand against such an intimidating foe. In the distance, rocky islands dotted the water, similar to the one on which she stood, some larger, some smaller. All uninhabited. To her left, the lone dwelling on this otherwise forgotten planet, a small hovel assembled from part natural rock cave, part hand-constructed wooden shack, fronted by a canvas tent like hers.

Rey marched over to the hut and paused only briefly when she heard Skywalker's voice inside. She pulled aside the flap to see him seated on a low stool in front of R2D2. He appeared to be talking to the droid.

"...it is my hope that you may accomplish what I could not-" He stopped when she stepped inside.

"I dreamt something," she said without preamble, letting the flap fall closed behind her. Briefly, she explained what she had seen, Luke inviting Devrun to join his academy. "Dream?" she asked tersely. "Or memory?"

His expression had not changed as she spoke, but when he replied his voice was grave. "Memory."

Although she'd suspected it had been a memory - it had a directness her other dreams had not - she still found herself suddenly short of breath. She turned slightly away so Luke wouldn't see her struggle. "You know my brother?"

Luke turned to R2 and rested a hand on the droid's metal side. "I did."

Rey saw a family of white birds wing by through the gap in the flaps. "And when... When the academy..." She swallowed. "Did he...?"

Another recollection threatened to swallow her whole. Her mother and brother leaving, her mother briefly assuring her frightened daughter that she'd paid handsomely for her to be well cared for in their absence, before turning away and boarding the family's aging craft. Dev, usually so reserved, was surprisingly warm, offering heartfelt encouragement and even a rare hug. They'd be back very soon, he promised. Before she had a chance to miss them. "Count the days," he'd said, squeezing her slim shoulders. "Make a little mark for each one. You'll soon forget to, you'll be having such fun without mother and me. You'll see. And then soon, Rey, very soon we'll be back."

"A pupil of mine rebelled," Luke said quietly, returning her mind to the present. To the lonely nameless island in the middle of the forgotten sea. "The academy was destroyed. All the students in it..." He shook his head, but she wasn't looking. In her mind, Rey saw Kylo Ren cutting down those beside whom he'd trained to be a Jedi. Cutting down Devrun with that sadistic red saber.

"I'm sorry," Luke said at last, the lines on his face deeper than ever before. "Your brother was lost."


	4. Chapter IV

With its imperfect shape, three suns and sparse terrain, Domandari embodied planetary afterthought. Had a wayward merchant transporter not experienced solar overload and crashed there two generations before to discover its rich ore, Domandari would likely remain uninhabited today. As it was, the vast and largely untapped metal stores, endless days and easily defended flat plains made it an obvious target for military occupation. At this particular time, clouds scuttled across the tan sky, casting ominous shadows on the barren, strip-mined plateaus, distinguished only by zigzagging rail lines and carrier tracks.

The screams carried for leagues.

The officiating body of Domandarians, mostly claimholders and mineowners, had surrendered quickly, sensing an opportunity in the first wave of First Order assault landers. This was not their first visit by a galactic militant force, and all previous encounters had resulted in lucrative business for the neutral territory.

But the First Order did not make deals. The initial slaughter was over in short order, decimating the power structure of the planet's lopsided social hierarchy. Their masters gone, the slave majority fled the planet's lone city of Domandar, slipping away into the mines and caverns like water through sand. Continuously replenished by arriving ships, stormtroopers hunted the remaining population, rousting them and dragging them screaming from hiding.

In Domandar, a city of austere metal dwellings ringed by factories and centered around one larger metal meeting hall, the last citizens were being rounded up and imprisoned. Past the newly constructed execution stage, two stormtroopers led a creature between them the height and size of an average human, but with six arms and squat legs that struggled to match its captors' brisk pace. It was a Cacapon, neither male nor female, by the common language name of Gannis Ducain. A mineowner and weapons smuggler, Ducain was a gelatinous creature with pearlescent skin that reflected whatever material surrounded it. As the trio pushed through the doors to the great hall, the Cacapon's membranes shifted from the reddish tan of the Domandari surface to the dark gray of the building's unadorned walls.

At the far end of the vast meeting space, on the low platform containing the council's table, General Hux was scanning a map of the plains with Captain Phasma. The map was constantly evolving, being updated in real time by the scouts dispatched across the planet.

Hux straightened as the stormtroopers approached and looked the prisoner up and down. "This is the one who asked to see me?"

One trooper replied, "Yes, General."

"Very well." Hux dropped into a chair. "You promised valuable intelligence?" he inquired disinterestedly, studying the holograph board in his hand. Ducain was not the first to plea for exception.

"Yes," Ducain replied quickly. "In exchange for a certain... _autonomy_ not given my fellow Domandarians."

"What is this information pertaining?"

The eager Cacapon licked its lips. "Rumor is that you seek a certain ship. That its location is very valuable to the First Order."

Hux blinked slowly, bored. "What kind of ship?"

"A Corellian YT-1300 light freighter," Ducain announced with a sneer.

"A Corellian freighter?" Hux's lip peeled back in disgust. "Sounds like a piece of junk. Take him, er, _it_ to the-" he began to command when a voice spoke.

"What's the name?"

From behind General Hux's seat, Kylo Ren stepped forward, leading slightly with one shoulder, a bit stooped. Ducain stared at Ren's menacing visage, speechless.

His voice mechanically enhanced by his mask, unnaturally resonant, Ren repeated slowly, "What's. The ship's. Name."

Ducain's bravado had disappeared. But its eagerness returned in force. "The _Millennium Falcon."_

A long pause followed these words, as they echoed gently in the vast space, then Kylo turned very slightly toward General Hux. "Grant it everything it asks."

Hux straightened, supremely annoyed, but studied Kylo Ren for only a moment to know he shouldn't argue. "Very well," he conceded unhappily, with a terse nod at the troopers holding Ducain. They released their grip and stepped back.

Ducain licked already wet lips. "I was at one time an owner of the _Millennium Falcon_ , and found the need to imbed a hidden relay on board, knowing one day a certain previous owner would come looking for it and might steal it back-"

"How do I find it?" Kylo Ren interrupted, radiating intensity despite the fact that he remained perfectly still.

Ducain eyed him warily for a moment, then withdrew a small device from a fold of skin. Kylo strode over, Ducain cowered, Kylo took the device from his extended extremity. He studied it for a long minute. The hall looked on in complete silence.

To the device, Kylo said, "This will lead me to the _Falcon_?"

Ducain's head jiggled a semblance of a nod.

Kylo spun away, marching back toward the dais. "Kill it," he said simply as he passed Phasma on the way to the rear door. Hux sputtered, leaping up to follow Kylo as Phasma stepped down and gestured to the troopers guarding Ducain.

"Now listen here, Ren!" Hux demanded, over the cries and pleas from the Cacapon in the hall. "You cannot make a liar of me!" Kylo kept walking. "Ren!" Hux shouted.

Kylo stopped, turned his blank mask back toward Hux, who came to an incensed stop in front of him. "If you kill every pathetic soul I grant clemency to I lose my credibility! My ability to get information!"

Holding up the relay device, Kylo said darkly, "She has to be here. This is where I get my retribution."

Hux sputtered anew, looking from the device to Kylo's mask, which tilted to face Hux fully.

"And I sense she's with Skywalker."

He turned and continued marching down the corridor.

Hux found his voice at last and shouted after him, _"She?"_

Black cape sweeping the wall as if desperate for a fingerhold, Kylo Ren turned the corner and disappeared.


	5. Chapter V

The small contingent dispatched by General Organa consisted of Finn, Poe, Snap Wexley, Jess Pava, and a tall-for-his-species Sullustan named Nien Nunb. It was an auspicious group of highly decorated pilots and veteran fighters, a venerated cabal of rebels dedicated to restoring freedom in the galaxy.

Finn felt sorely out of place.

If he could, he would be ensuring Rey was safe before looking for an anonymous port to hide in for the rest of his hopefully long, uneventful life, not be rushing headlong into the First Order's latest bloodbath. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering about the wisdom of joining forces with the Resistance. If they had any sense at all, they would be spending their time and resources escaping the Order, not opposing it. No matter how skilled their forces.

Across from Finn in the personnel carrier's narrow galley, Jess Pava inquired about his recovery with a kind gaze. He nodded back, reminding himself that no one he'd known in his old life would have cared about his health. Except perhaps Slip.

"Better. Thanks."

She smiled. Next to her, Wexley sat forward, his intent gaze much less friendly. "Tell us the story of how you fought Kylo Ren on Starkiller Base. We've only heard rumor. I'd like to know what _really_ happened."

Finn leaned back, hesitant. Poe returned from the cockpit just then, leaving the controls in Nunb's skilled hands. As the carrier shuddered briefly past an unseen planet's gravitational pull, Poe dropped into the seat beside Finn and strapped himself in with a sigh. "Lightspeed will have us to Domandari in a few hours," he informed no one in particular.

"Your buddy Finn was just about to tell us how he escaped Supreme Leader Snoke's apprentice with only a few battle wounds," Wexley said.

Poe's eyebrows went up at the obvious insinuation. He glanced from Finn to Wexley. "My buddy Finn," he replied pointedly, "is a highly trained soldier, with my complete and unwavering trust and respect. As are you."

Wexley turned to Finn, undeterred by the commander's statement. "Go ahead. How'd you survive, stormtrooper?"

Pava eyed the younger man curiously. "I admit I wouldn't mind hearing this myself. What's Ren's weakness?"

On the floor, plugged into a charging port, BB-8's head swiveled swiftly from one human to another. Finn shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He was injured," he answered shortly. "I had a lightsaber. And Rey's help. We got lucky."

Pava looked disappointed, Poe thoughtful, and Wexley vaguely smug. The ship shuddered again, then gave a fleeting jerk as Nunb adjusted course. No one spoke again until they reached the outer edges of the Neutral Territories.

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ remained where it had set down a week prior, on a small patch of relatively flat land at the base of Luke Skywalker's self-imposed isolation. Somewhere beneath the freighter's gray belly came a muffled curse and the clang of metal striking metal. Simultaneously, Chewbacca's hairy head appeared with a guttural moan, and R2D2 rolled up, emitting a series of shrill beeps.

"I _know_ ," Rey snapped, slipping out from beneath the _Falcon_ and throwing her wrench on the ground. It buried halfway into the dirt. "But the stupid undercutter was damaged, and I can't fix it with what we have on board!"

Chewbacca dropped down from the maintenance platform and groaned back argumentatively, causing Rey to stab her finger in her chest. " _I'm_ not the one who crashlanded on Starkiller Base. You can't blame _me_ if the shields don't work!"

Instead of replying, the Wookiee just stared at her, a shocking amount of pain in his shaggy gaze. Rey blinked, realizing what she'd said, who she'd just blamed for their present difficulties.

"Chewie, I'm sorry-" she began, but the Wookiee turned away, waving her off and turning for the stone steps with a shake of his head and a forlorn moan.

Rey started to follow, then stopped herself. Chewbacca deserved a chance to be alone; she owed him that much. Turning back, she kicked angrily at the wrench, unearthing it and sending tiny clods of dirt and grass against R2's side. The droid rolled backward and beeped in offense.

"Sorry, Artoo," Rey said, exasperated at her own blundering. Good thing there weren't more people on this godforsaken planet, or she'd be apologizing forever! Swiping up the wrench, Rey headed for the _Falcon_ 's ramp, stomping inside before she caused her friends any further harm.

Always quick to forgive, R2D2 hit the ramp on three treads, following her inside to the large compartment she'd left exposed in the floor, the other side of which had been giving Rey such trouble. It was inside this smuggler's hold that she hoped to reconfigure the _Falcon_ 's shields, damaged from its last battle, and, ideally, improve them for future ones. The freighter may have gotten them to this planet without undue concern, but it would be foolish to fly again without proper attention.

Not to mention they'd be needing better shields if they were going to rejoin the fight against the First Order. Because she _would_ be fighting Kylo Ren again. And this time only one of them would leave alive.

Rey felt the now familiar feeling creeping in, clouding her vision and darkening her thoughts. Her breath quickened and she squeezed the tool in her hand until it cut into her skin, but she hardly noticed. In her mind, Luke's words kept repeating, like an endless echo in a hellish cave: "Your brother was lost."

 _Lost_. Such a polite way of putting it. Such a simple way to convey so much treachery, so much betrayal, so much pain. She'd waited for Dev to return for _years. Years_ spent telling herself that if she just survived a little bit longer, if she just held on one day more, her family would come back for her. The only people who had ever cared would return, and she wouldn't be alone in the world, abandoned. Forgotten.

The wrench dropped to the ground. A string of lights were blinking back at her - she'd brought the shields back online. Somehow. Rey couldn't remember repairing the correct lines, but when she popped her head out of the hold, the daylight coming through the entry ramp was noticeably dimmer than when she'd entered.

She'd been working for hours, but it felt as if only minutes had passed.

Unnerved, she lifted herself out and ordered R2 to stay put. "I'm going to find another deflector stanchion," she explained, marching down the gangway and across the grass.

At the droid's whistled question, Rey shrugged, setting her determined sights on the mountain of stairs before her. "Luke reached this planet on _something_."


	6. Chapter VI

Thanks to Poe's unequaled ability, the personnel carrier landed undetected in an abandoned quarry outside Domandar City, positioned to slip away quickly, should the need arise. With a little stealth and a great deal of luck, it would not.

Having dispatched BB-8 to report from the northern edge of the city where acrid black smoke was rising ominously, Poe pocketed the droid's communication device. He was determined that they not be separated indefinitely again. The powerful transceiver would work everywhere except the deepest of mines.

Lying on their bellies, quadnoculars pressed to their eyes, the remaining rebels surveyed the landscape from atop a small ridge. Outer patrols were positioned exactly where Finn had predicted they would be, at a specified, regimented distance from the city and from each other. They paced a set length from their posts, and were relieved from their duties every four hours, on the hour. Finn couldn't believe he'd ever lived as mindlessly, brainwashed to ignore instinct and self-preservation.

Once the first change of shift was completed, Poe lowered his quadnoculars and squinted at his watch. "This neverending daylight is a real pain. Looks like we're not going to get a better chance to approach. Thoughts?"

"Disguise," Jess Pava suggested, pointing toward a short column of rag-draped slaves being shepherded past a dormant factory. "Blend in and get a good look from the inside. Half stay here to rescue the others at a determined place and time."

"Destroy," Snap Wexley said. "They don't mine with shovels anymore. Those storage bunkers have to be loaded with explosives. We put them where they'll deliver the most damage."

"Wait," suggested Nien Nunb. "See what BB-8 reports, decide then."

Poe frowned at the contrasting opinions. "And I say we spread out, observe what we can from a new vantage point."

All eyes fell on Finn. His eyebrows flew up, unaccustomed as he was to being consulted on mission tactics. Glancing at the others, he shrugged. "I'm with Poe. Infiltration carries too much risk, attack puts the civilians in danger, staying increases the chance we'll be discovered."

Wexley's face hardened, but the others nodded agreement. "Good," Poe replied, satisfied. "Finn, you're with me. Snap and Jess head that way. Nien, stay with the ship. All encrypted communication will relay through you."

The Sullustan saluted and the others paired off, agreeing to rendezvous in a half-day's time, their objective to map the possible holding location of any civilians, discover vulnerabilities in the Order's defenses, and observe troop movement around the city. Once together and off-planet, the information would be supplied to D'Qar, where analysts were already waiting to devise a plan of attack, and X-Wings stood by eager to deliver it.

Finn clutched his blaster and followed Poe down the ridge's southern slope. They skirted the edge of a refuse dump, then pressed their backs to the smooth gray wall of a small outbuilding, leaping away at the same instance with gasps of pain. The shed was scorching in the blazing suns.

"Stay away from the metal?" Poe suggested.

"Yeah," Finn readily agreed.

The incongruous daylight confused their journey in other ways as well. Shadows spanned from every building and outcropping in three directions, appearing to change by the minute with the planet's uneven rotation, giving the impression of constant movement and approaching foes. One sun was significantly closer than the others, and they soon discovered that to be in its unblinking gaze meant quickly wilting in sweltering heat, while remaining out of its sight for long meant a peculiar, hazy, midday chill.

Shortly after reporting their present location to Nunb at the scheduled time, Poe received a status update from BB-8; the smoke still visible in the distant sky emanated from their worst fear, the burning of countless Domandarian dead. Poe dropped behind a short plateau and withdrew a water flask from his pack. He sipped a conservative amount, then passed it to Finn. For a long while, neither spoke, lost in thought.

At last, Poe stirred. "This daylight is a torment," he muttered, pointing to his legs, both cast in mottled spots of part sun, part shadow. "My foot's on fire but my knee is freezing."

Finn understood completely. He'd covered his right hand to block the nearest sun's burning reach, but now it was growing numb with frostbite.

"Let's get what we need and get the hell out of here."

Poe started to nod, but something behind Finn made him freeze. Spinning, Finn found himself face-to-face with a half-dozen stormtroopers, fully armed with blaster rifles and riot batons.

"Aw, don't go," the lead trooper said with mock hurt. "Stay awhile. We have so much to catch up on." Lowering himself to one knee, Nines put his face right in Finn's. "Traitor."

* * *

The wind snatched at the tattered robes, enveloping the lone figure meditating on the cliff, trying to take him into its invisible embrace, offering him solace, comfort. Offering him the opportunity to at last remove himself from this pain.

Oh how he was tempted to give in.

The tortured gaze beneath the hood raised to face the soft orange glow of the setting sun. How many sunsets had he witnessed from this very spot, how many meditations, how many agonizing reflections? Never once to achieve anything resembling acceptance. And now this, this terrible temptation.

Rey.

The girl was a cruel reminder of the mistakes he had made, disguised as a chance at redemption. Instead of erasing the shadows of the past, her presence here seemed to deepen them, taunting him. If anything, it made the agony of the past more acute, more real than it had felt in years. As if the intervening time hadn't passed at all, as if he were feeling his failures for the first time all over again. His failure to see what Snoke was doing. His failure to see what was in Ben. His failure to see what _wasn't_ in Devrun. He'd been so overwhelmed by the Force within the boy's sister, he'd been too blind to see too little resided in him. Luke alone was responsible for that boy's loss. Rey was right to be hurt and resentful.

Alone on that cliff, Luke closed his eyes and thought of Han. He could almost feel his friend's presence in the Force. But it was faint, just out of his reach, mocking him. Han would not come to him as Master Yoda and Obi Wan once had. He would not come with advice, with absolution. Luke no longer deserved such benevolence.

These old wounds reopened, again he saw his friend entrusting him with his son, warning him of the boy's dark proclivities. Again, Luke dismissing them, his faith in the power of the Light Side absolute, unwavering. Leaving no room for hesitancy or ambivalence.

 _Forgive me,_ he entreated his old friend, not for the first time that day. Not for the first time that hour. _Forgive my weakness, my delusions._

A ripple around him, unrelated to the raging wind, invisible to any not gifted with the Force. For the briefest moment, Luke could sense Han nearby. But it wasn't his old friend. Not really. Only a part of him was now present, growing closer. A part all too familiar, yet irrevocably changed.

Luke rose smoothly to his feet as the imposing shuttle, black and prevailing as night, cut through the low clouds on an arc toward the island, its silent descent causing Rey's small tent to collapse in the onslaught of gusting air. The canvas flaps of Luke's own hut whipped wildly, but held. Lower it came, the glare from the landing lights narrowing in focus to one impossibly small space on the peak of that cliff.

With a feeling of almost grateful resignation, the Jedi master watched it land.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Don't worry, there's more to come! If you've enjoyed the story so far, please don't forget to favorite, follow, or post a review! Share with anyone you know who loves** _ **Star Wars**_ **as much as we do! Heartfelt thanks for the amazing responses I've received already – you guys are why I write!**


	7. Chapter VII

_How?_

That single question reverberated in his skull, only partially due to the blow he'd received from Nines.

How had they been found? How, of thousands of stormtroopers, had _Nines_ been the one to find them?

There was no time to wonder about that now. Weapons gone, binders on their wrists, Finn and Poe were led through the streets of Domandar, their apparent destination the largest building in the city center. Stormtroopers turned to watch as the small group passed, some stunned, some cheered, all staring. Everyone, it seemed, knew who Finn was. Every trooper had heard the story of one of their own, setting a Rebel prisoner free, stealing a TIE fighter and crippling the _Finalizer_ on his way to foolhardy, ill-fated freedom.

Domandar's great metal hall loomed in front of them. The doors were thrown open, the darkness inside momentarily numbing the eyes as they were dragged down an echoing hall, then they were thrown to the ground, to kneel behind a different type of looming metal.

Chrome armor distinguished by a black-and-red cape designating the wearer's rank. Captain Phasma turned, peering down at them through the blank, black eyes of her plated mask.

"Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven," she murmured.

Blinking past the blood in his eyes, Finn sat back on his heels, his shoulders sagging slightly. _How?_ reared again in his brain, this time trying to understand the presence of the woman in front of him.

"Enjoy your stint in the trash compactor?" he taunted, fear making him stupid with bravery.

For a long moment the captain just stared at him. He could only imagine the look behind that chrome mask.

"Take this one to a holding cell," she ordered Nines at last.

His former friend seized his arm, hauling him up. A trooper Finn didn't know stepped forward as he began to struggle, and, each holding an arm, started to drag him out. Poe, inexplicably, was left still kneeling in front of Phasma.

"Ren got everything he needed from this one," she said to the troopers guarding the Resistance pilot.

Dread settled in Finn's stomach like a lead weight. He struggled anew against the troopers' grips. "Poe..."

Phasma unclipped the custom modified blaster rifle from her hip. In a dreadful flash, Finn found himself recalling all the atrocities she'd committed with it. All the deaths.

He struggled harder. "No. Poe!"

As calmly as she'd ordered troops to assemble for morning assignments, Phasma said, "Take him to the execution stage."

Poe's jaw set as fury knit his brows. Finn fought harder against the captors dragging him inexorably toward the door. "No!" he shouted ineffectually, kicking out, twisting as hard as he could. Sensing there was nothing to lose from trying, Poe leapt to his feet, fighting back. He swept out the legs of the nearest stormtrooper, seizing the man's blaster in his bound hands as the soldier fell. But before Poe could get off a shot, two more troopers were on him and he was quickly overcome.

As surely as if Finn weren't resisting at all, he was dragged through the door and Poe, bloodied and hanging from his captors' grips, vanished from sight. Finn's cries echoed in the metal corridor. _"No!"_

* * *

The disembarkment ramp slid down with barely a whisper, the spotlights lining the shuttle's edges cloaking its interior in total darkness.

Footsteps were heard before boots appeared, followed by the lean robed body, black cape sweeping the ramp, hood resting behind stiff shoulders, and then the face. Older, more haunted. Marked now by a long scar from cheek to brow, recent, but healed as much as it ever would. Long black hair stirred softly in the incessant ocean breeze. The young man was tall but stood slightly stooped, though was no less intimidating because of it.

For a long moment, master and former padawan just studied each other, their last encounter years before at the front of each man's mind.

Without a word, Kylo Ren engaged the lightsaber in his gloved hand. Its angry red glare vibrated delicately in the otherwise silent dusk. For the first time his gaze left Luke's, to skim the older man's waist, seeking his weapon's blue counterpart.

"Retrieve your weapon, Skywalker."

Luke blinked tiredly. "I will not."

Anger rippled through his nephew like water. "Fight me!"

"I will not fight you, Ben."

"It's Kylo!" he roared, shaking. The dark force within him flared, barely contained. He had awaited this moment for a very long time.

Luke didn't flinch. "You are Ben Solo-"

 _"Kylo Ren!"_ Charging forward, he brought the saber around, on a wide arc to cut Luke in two, but the blade stopped, sputtering plasma eating the air a breath shy of its goal. Close enough Luke could feel the heat biting through his robe. He opened his eyes to see the scorchmark carved into his sleeve.

Rey stood alone by the stone outcroppings at the edge of the clearing, having just arrived from the other side of the island. Fierce concentration hardened her face, a forgotten deflector stanchion at her feet, dropped from the hand she now held extended, freezing Kylo Ren's killing blow.


	8. Chapter VIII

Kylo bellowed and pulled the saber back, turning to face Rey now. Lowering his head, he started toward her, red blade flashing.

Panic gripped her. As much as she ached for revenge, deep down she knew she lacked the training to defeat Supreme Leader Snoke's highly skilled apprentice. Seizing on the flow of the Force she sensed in the earth around her, Rey began throwing everything she could at him, sending stones, branches, dirt clods hurtling through the air. He expertly batted each one down with his saber.

Arms extended, Rey lifted and threw the largest thing she could see, a fallen tree. Kylo sliced it cleanly in half, and kept coming.

Stumbling, she fell back. Seeing this, he leapt to land on her, and with both hands she stopped him, repelling him. Propelling him backward from midair.

He landed hard, rolled, righted himself in one fluid move.

Rey sat up, shaking. She wouldn't be able to perform that maneuver again. She couldn't believe she was capable of it the first time.

Kylo reengaged his lightsaber. And began stalking toward her. Rey threw a hand in the direction of her tent.

Kylo marched closer. She redoubled her concentration, shaking with the strain of it.

At her feet, he brought his blade over his shoulder, swinging it down to strike at her, but suddenly the blue lightsaber was in her hand and she was stopping his from slicing her in two with barely an inch to spare.

They glared at each other in the dueling glow of their respective weapons, hatred welling in both their stares.

"You refuse the Dark Side's teachings like a fool!" Kylo hissed.

"I'd rather die than ever join you!" Rey shouted back, struggling under his oppressive strength.

Then suddenly the pressure abated, and, inexplicably, Kylo was retreating. No, not retreating, floating. Lifted, sent through the air, kicking, cursing. Eyes closed, hands moving smoothly through the night air, Luke pushed Kylo back toward his ship, placing him gently on the ground at the base of the entry ramp.

"Leave us, Ben," he said tiredly. "Just go."

"No!" Rey roared, leaping up. Reinvigorated, she began hurling bigger and bigger rocks at Ren. In her inexperience they went wide, striking dirt, boulders, some tumbling out to sea. One struck the side of Kylo's shuttle hard, shattering the metal and tearing through a support leg, causing the ship to tip sideways, colliding with the ground, teetering at the edge of the cliff. She felt Luke pushing her back, keeping them apart so neither could approach the other.

But that didn't stop them from attacking.

Rey called up a veritable tornado of stones. Kylo reached out with a gloved hand and instantly she felt his repulsive presence worming its way into her mind. Sickened by that familiar feeling, she fought against it, her stone whirlwind stalling. To Luke, she demanded, "Let me go!"

Luke spoke as calmly as ever. "I will not see another Jedi die."

"He's not a Jedi! He embraced the Dark Side!"

The stabbing pain in her head increased. Her face screwed up against it, struggling to repel Kylo's attack, but then Luke pushed them further apart, and the pain lessened.

"Go, Ben," he rasped.

Rey couldn't believe what she was hearing. "He killed Han!" she shouted, appalled. "He killed his own father! _He killed my brother!"_

A flash of surprise, then something like glee flared in Kylo's eyes. "Your brother? Truly?" He dropped his hand, and with it his telepathic intrusion. "Of course. Your ability...he must have been at the academy. Tell me, which one was he?" His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps I'll let you in _my_ mind, let you see him one more time." Kylo grinned zealously. "Tell me who he was, and you can watch me kill him."

* * *

Finn hit the floor hard, jumping up in time for Nines to slam the door in his face.

"Nines!" he shouted, reaching through the bars, just missing the other man's shoulder. "Nines! Listen to me!"

"Don't talk to me, traitor!" Nines roared back. His helmet obstructing his anger, he stripped it off, putting his face in Finn's. "You betrayed us! All of us! The men you trained with, the men you fought with-"

"You don't understand, I _had_ to leave! But you can leave too-"

"And enlist with that rebel scum?" Nines spat. "How could you do that, huh? After what he did?"

"Don't you know what the _First Order_ does? Don't you see? We fight, but for what? Slip died, for what?"

"And who do you think is to blame for that?" Nines growled.

Finn blinked, confused, but a noise at the window made him turn. There were voices below, where he could just make out what appeared to be Domandar's main square.

Finn looked back at Nines, distracted. He tried again. "Can't you see, they brainwashed us. To them, we're expendable. Blaster fodder. You owe them _nothing."_

Nines shifted, but stayed silent. Finn recalled the years they'd known each other. How Nines never once diverted from the training rituals, the work schedules. How hard he strived to prove himself valuable. At times he'd seemed more machine than man, more dedicated to duty than even some of their superiors were.

But even to Nines, who never spoke of it, there was always that one question he'd never be able to answer with the First Order's propaganda. Always one unknown no stormtrooper could escape.

"Can you even remember it?" Finn asked softly, breaking the silence. "Home?"

Nines had gone still. His brown eyes stared at nothing.

"Do you even remember its name?"

A dampness appeared in Nine's gaze and he blinked hard, his jaw set.

Finn pressed his face to the bars, a hand to his chest. _"I'm_ not the one who betrayed you."

Nines' eyes hardened. He squinted at the bars. After a long minute, he looked up, and opened his mouth to speak. But a sound at the window caught their attention.

Cheering.

Suddenly filled with dread, Finn ran to the window. In the dusty square below a large crowd of stormtroopers, officers, and First Order personnel had gathered around a small stage built at the edge of a thin crack in the ground, a crevice running through the center of town, spanned here and there by the occasional footbridge, the unfortunate result of illegal mining many years before.

A pair was walking up to the stage; Poe, led by a stormtrooper. Poe was made to kneel before the trooper walked away.

Finn gripped the bars. No sound escaped his strangled lungs, but in his head he chanted one word: _No…_

Behind him, Nines said flatly, "Phasma will do this one herself. She does all the high-profile executions personally."

Just as he spoke, Captain Phasma appeared. In her hands rested her personally modified chromium blaster. She stepped onto the stage and spoke briefly to the prisoner. Poe tilted his head back defiantly. Phasma took her position and the blaster was pointed squarely at the center of Poe's chest. Then, unbelievably, she turned her mask to look up at Finn, imprisoned behind the barred window.

Less an act of defiance than the only action he could possibly muster, Finn dropped to the floor, covering his ears as she pulled the trigger.


	9. Chapter IX

_You can watch me kill him._

As if offering her a gift, Kylo Ren had just presented her with the chance to watch her brother die.

As the shock dissipated, Rey felt the feeling creeping in, comforting now in its familiarity when everything else suddenly seemed so incomprehensible. It seeped into her muscles, her bones, clouding her vision and darkening her thoughts. Allowing her to stop struggling, to do nothing but _feel. React_. This time it did not unnerve her; she welcomed it. It gave her strength she'd never known in her life. A life spent helpless and weak.

Because of the man standing across from her.

Throwing both hands out, the Force suddenly flowed through her as if she were a conduit in a massive machine, small but invaluable, enabling her to achieve the inconceivable. Air swirled furiously around the clearing, tearing at Luke's robes, Ren's cape. Sensing movement behind him, Kylo spun, lightsaber coming up in defense, but what he saw made him lower it in awe.

There before him, impossibly, his damaged shuttle began to rise.

Slowly, it separated itself from the ground. Shards of the shattered support leg detached and fell back to earth, but the rest, higher and higher it rose, into the night air, until at last it towered over the figure in the black robes.

"Let's see your saber deflect _this!"_ Rey snarled, eyes flashing, the fierce concentration on her face twisting into a jeer.

Suddenly she was falling, Kylo stumbling back at the same moment, the ship slamming into the ground precisely where he'd stood, inches from his boots.

Luke's hold had faltered, removing the invisible barrier against which they'd both strained. He dropped his hands, staring in astonishment at Rey.

Rey felt as if something inside her had snapped. Not in her body, but in her consciousness. Barely aware she was now on the ground, she blinked at the clouds, dazed, feeling oddly as if she were waking from a bad dream.

Exhausted, she tried to sit up, but found she didn't have the strength. Kylo, on the other hand, leapt to his feet, staggering back, staring with wonder at his ruined shuttle. A brighter spot below caught his eye. He turned for the island's edge and saw a clearing with, in the center, glowing white in the moonlight, a certain Corellian YT-1300 light freighter.

Rey struggled up on one elbow, in time to see Kylo Ren vault over the side of the cliff. She froze momentarily, confused, until realization dawned. "No!" she cried weakly, pushing onto her hands and knees. Head swimming, she forced the nausea down, dragging herself to her feet. Stumbling, she stayed upright. The sound of a ship powering up reached her ears over the whistling breeze.

"No!"

She staggered forward, crashing up against the rock outcropping, just as the lights of the Millennium Falcon flickered to life. "No!"

Unimpressed with her objections, the ship lifted from the island clearing. _"Coward!"_ she screamed, mustering the strength to propel a smattering of small stones, the few that reached their target bouncing uselessly off the _Falcon_ 's shields.

The shields she'd just spent six days reinforcing.

Rey could only watch as the _Millennium Falcon_ cut through the sky, left the planet's atmosphere, faded into a speck, and disappeared. Still, she stared for a long time in the place it had been, despair settling around her heart.

She'd lost Han's ship.

A sound startled her and she spun to see Luke Skywalker, still standing where he'd faced Kylo Ren, but this time swaying slightly on his feet.

Rey stumbled over to help him, taking him by the hand and arm, leading him toward a low boulder where he dropped down heavily. "How did you do that?" he asked her breathlessly, only then raising his head to meet her gaze. "How? With no training..."

She shrugged impatiently, her mind on Han's ship. "It's a recent development."

Twigs snapped nearby, and she spun, hands out, but it was Chewbacca appearing with a pair of snared waterbirds over his shoulder. The Wookiee stopped on the steps overlooking the ledge where the Falcon had been. He stared at it a moment. Turning, he looked next at them, putting his arms out in the universal gesture of "What the hell?" and groaned a question.

Rey dropped her hands and sank down on the rock beside Luke. Neither had the strength to answer that question, but it was only a moment before Chewbacca noticed the black First Order shuttle perched nearby, nearly invisible in the darkness, resting ridiculously on its left wing.

"Can you get that to fly?" Luke asked after a minute. He looked at her askance. "Mechanically, I mean."

Rey studied it dispassionately. "Probably."

"Good. You can use parts from my ship - which I see you've already found," he amended, seeing the discarded deflector stanchion resting on the ground beside the lightsaber.

"Coming with us?" Rey challenged. "Is that why you no longer need your own transportation?"

Luke straightened, his anguish and the intervening years sketched into his face. He was about to repeat the speech he'd given before, explaining that the others could stay just as long as was necessary, then they were expected to leave him alone forever, but something stopped him. He looked around quickly, disturbed.

"You may have given up, but I have not!" Rey exploded suddenly, misinterpreting his silence. She jumped to her feet, incensed. " _I_ will not let the First Order control the galaxy! _I_ will not see their evil reign poisoning innocent planets, on the backs of innocent people!"

"Where is R2D2?"

Rey blinked, her diatribe interrupted. She looked around, as if the squat droid were simply hiding, before realizing she knew exactly where it was. Her exasperated expression confirming his worst fear, Luke's face drained of color.

Rising to his feet, he entreated Rey and Chewbacca with unexpected fervor. "Fix the shuttle. Now. As fast as you possibly can." Reaching out, he used the Force and caught his old lightsaber easily in his grip. He raised it up and gazed at it a moment, then looked at the others with a grave resolve. "We need to get to Leia at once."


	10. Chapter X

He should feel sadness. He should feel anger. He should be wracked with a rage-filled vengefulness, clouded with fury at Phasma and grief for Poe. He should seek revenge, demand retribution, figure a way out of this hellhole.

Instead he just felt numb.

This mission, this fool's errand that should never have taken place, was all his fault. Jess had suggested they sneak in, Snap had wanted to attack, Nien had advised they wait. Poe had wanted to split up and spread out, but it was Finn who convinced the others to agree. It was Finn who'd left them all more susceptible to capture, vulnerable. And now Poe was dead.

Who was he? He was nothing. Nothing but a sanitation worker, worse than useless to the rebellion - a liability. And a deserter to the First Order. He belonged nowhere, for wherever he went he brought death to his friends.

It was approaching the middle of the night on this side of Domandari, but its suns still blazed as brightly as ever. Exhaustion had seeped into Finn's bones where he sat on the floor with his head in his hands, but anytime his eyes sank shut, he saw Poe Dameron's lifeless body being dragged away.

Jess Pava, Snap Wexley, Nien Nunb... Half a day had passed since last contact. Had they escaped somehow? Or would they be next?

A sound at the door. The lock releasing. His head had never been heavier, but somehow Finn managed to lift it as the door opened, revealing Nines standing there. Alone.

He held his white helmet in both hands, and he studied it for a long minute, glancing occasionally up the hall. There were no other troopers, no other sounds. Finally, he spoke.

"Waterfalls," he said. His mouth set in a thin line, Nines raised his eyes to meet Finn's. "There were waterfalls. Pouring from blue mountains." He shrugged. "I don't remember them, but Slip mentioned them once. We were on reconnaissance training, that scutwork where you spend days in a hole doing nothing? He just...started talking about waterfalls." Nines' eyebrows knit together. "The way he described it...so clearly..." He glanced at the ceiling and shook his head. "You could almost see it."

The former squadmates - former friends - stared at each other a long time. Then, with a heavy sigh, Nines stepped to the side. Leaving the doorway clear behind him.

When Finn just looked at him quizzically, Nines said, "For Slip." He shrugged again. "Always liked you. Damned if I know why."

Finn climbed to his feet and crossed the cell. Before he reached the door, Nines put on his helmet and faced the window. Finn stopped. "What about you?"

Nines shook his head. He knew what Finn was asking. "I'm still working on that."

Still Finn hesitated. Nines glanced over. "Go right, down the first set of stairs. You'll need this," he added, holding out his blaster.

Finn shook his head. "Nines-"

 _"Go,"_ Nines insisted, shoving the weapon into Finn's hands and pushing him out the door. "You've got ten minutes before I report your escape."

Finn nodded, turning back to say...anything, but the door to the cell was already slamming shut.

He was alone in the hall. As instructed, he headed right and found stairs halfway down the corridor, unmanned, his path to freedom clear.

His feet stopped.

This was his chance to leave, to escape from the First Order yet again. He'd done it before, there was nothing keeping him from doing it now.

But the numbness and self-pity were gone. Just as surely as he'd walked out of that cell, he'd walked away from the helplessness he'd felt there. Now he had to decide. Sneak away, try to join the others, participate in the rebellion, play his small part. Or take this one improbable chance to make a bigger difference in this war.

Finn stepped back from the stairs, turned toward the darkened hall.

And started hunting.


	11. Chapter XI

The ship was metal, modules and mechanics. Inanimate. Insentient. Yet Kylo Ren felt as if it were watching him, studying him.

Judging him.

The feeling crept over like a drifting fog, swirling into the cockpit, seeping into every corner, crawling under his robes. He ignored it as long as he could, staring out the window with complete concentration. But when it proved too much, Ren unleashed his resentment, pounding at the vessel's console, smashing buttons and lights indiscriminately, tearing into controls and instrumentation, ripping out wires and panels. Warnings sounded throughout the ship, while behind him an air tube burst, sending a spray of oxygen into the cockpit. He leapt up and pounded that until it ceased.

After a minute, the sirens terminated. Anger spent, Kylo dropped into the pilot's chair.

He'd killed Han Solo. The Supreme Leader had promised that act would make him stronger, severing the tie which had made others weak. But somehow he still felt fragmented, incomplete. Rey, an inexperienced scavenger, was nearly as powerful as he, though hardly disciplined. Still, her lack of training was a factor which could easily change. He needed to learn all he could about her vulnerabilities. Everything he could about this brother.

He wasn't the only one with a weakness.

Unseen, a droid rolled silently into the cockpit, easing into the compartment's warm glow. Stopping behind the slumped figure's right shoulder, R2D2 extended a short silver probe from his side, aiming it carefully at the soft flesh beneath Kylo's arm.

And zapped him. Hard.

Kylo jerked, colliding with the controls, and the ship took a nosedive. Centrifugal force overcoming the craft's gravitational regulator, everything onboard floated for five solid seconds. Perfectly accustomed to weightlessness from countless campaigns in an X-Wing astromech socket, R2D2 zapped Ren again from midair. Cursing, Kylo struck out, knocking the droid away with one arm, seizing the controls with the other. The ship swept up wildly, everything hit the floor, and R2D2 rolled back with a shrill whistle, careening off the wall before falling hard into the open smuggler's hold where Rey had worked on the shields earlier that day.

The ship stabilized, alarms quieted, and its would-be defender lay where he'd landed below deck, emitting one long, self-pitying whimper.

* * *

Lieutenant Mitaka stood nervously at the door, hands clasped behind his back, awaiting his superior's entrance. When General Hux at last stormed in, Mitaka immediately fell into step beside him.

"The communication came in only a short time ago, sir," he explained hurriedly. "I had you notified as soon as-"

"Yes, yes," Hux interrupted. "Clear the room at once."

"Of course, sir."

The moment he was alone, the general activated the holoprojector and scowled at the small robed figure which flickered into view.

"You woke me," he grumbled petulantly. "What time is it? This infernal planet and all its suns. I know which one I'm going to absorb first."

"Skywalker is with the girl," Kylo Ren stated emotionlessly. "They are isolated for now. Send troops to destroy the planet immediately."

"What planet?" Hux demanded. "Who is this girl? Why is she so important?"

Kylo's scarred face darkened. "She has-"

Captain Phasma burst in, marching quickly to Hux's side. "About time," he muttered.

She ignored him, stripping off her helmet, revealing short, spikey white hair and ghostly pale skin. Her icy blue eyes raked Ren's face hungrily, noting how he held his side. "You're hurt."

Kylo dropped his hand. "A droid was hiding on board. It is of no consequence."

"No, it isn't," Hux agreed, moving on. "Supreme Leader Snoke demands an update."

"I am aware," Ren murmured. "I cannot transmit to him from this heap of junk."

Just then noticing the other man's surroundings, Hux's lip curled. "Where are you? What ship is that?"

"That's irrelevant. I've made an important discovery about the girl. She had a broth-"

The holoprojector exploded, rocketed by blasterfire. Hux and Phasma jumped back. Finn fired again, striking the general, who was thrown back, hitting the wall hard, where he fell to the ground, senseless. Turning on Phasma, Finn fired twice more, but she brought her helmet up just in time and both shots ricocheted, striking the wall just past Finn's ear.

They both froze.

First Order captain, helmet held in front of her, weapon resting at her side, dangerously close.

Former stormtrooper, blaster pressed against his shoulder, gaze peering down the barrel at his enemy.

He almost grinned. "Remove your weapon."

Her eyes narrowed, calculating. "Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven. You've surprised me again." Her head tilted, studying him as if he were a rare artifact. "Tell me, how did you escape?"

Finn took a half-step forward. "There's no garbage chute for you this time, Phasma. This time you pay for what you've done."

"And what have I done?" she replied calmly, as if nothing at present disturbed her.

His hands tightened on the blaster's grips. "You killed Poe."

"Was he your friend?" Phasma's pale lips formed a smug smile. "Such a pity."

He nearly fired again right then and there, aware she was trying to provoke him and not caring one bit. They'd see whose reflexes were faster.

The door opened and a stormtrooper walked in. Using the distraction, Finn leapt forward and seized Phasma, wrenching her to her knees and jamming the blaster against her neck. He'd be killed by the newcomer, but this death would be worth it. "This is for Poe!"

"Finn, no!"

He stopped, shocked. The voice was distorted by the infantry helmet, but Finn recognized it instantly.

One hand out in placation, the trooper reached up to remove his helmet.

Standing there in the door, fully upright and unharmed, was Poe Dameron.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Whaaaa-! Did you see that coming? Share your thoughts in the comments box! Favorite, Follow, and keep reading, I'm a sucker for twists - there are more surprises to come...**


	12. Chapter XII

_"Poe? Poe!"_

 _"Here!"_

 _Shara Bey came over the ridge to find him standing in the open field, eyes locked on the evening sky overhead. "There you are. What are you doing out here?"_

 _Poe pointed. "Look!"_

 _She stopped beside her son and gazed at the heavens, quickly seeing what had enraptured him. Colorful bursts of light, launched from a systems municipal ship, like stars appearing and dying over and over again._

 _She ruffled the young boy's hair. It was dark brown, almost black, and always wild like hers. "It's a celebration."_

 _"What are they celebrating?"_

 _"The anniversary of the Battle of Endor. The beginning of the end of the Galactic Empire."_

 _Poe peered up at her. "Did you fly your ship in the Battle of Endor?"_

 _She smiled briefly, lost in memory for a moment. "Yes, I did."_

 _Her son studied the sky. "I'm going to be a pilot just like you. And fly in battles that they celebrate each year with colorful lights in the cosmos."_

 _Shara followed his gaze once more. "I'm glad to say the war is over. The treaty has been signed and peace has been restored. If good people stay strong, and overwhelm the bad, there will be no more battles to fight, Poe. No more sorrow, and no more death."_

* * *

He was dead.

Certain of very little else, he was certain of that. Nothing else could explain this emptiness. This nothingness.

If only he could remember how he'd gotten that way.

Drawing in a long, gasping breath, Poe let it out with deep coughs that wracked his chest, emphasizing the bruising pain in his sternum. He clasped it with one hand and rolled over, sucking in dusty air before hacking it back out again. Beneath his face now lay clay and rock. He opened his eyes to orange-red soil. Lifting his head, looking around through bleary eyes, he saw he lay in a ravine of some sort, clay walls climbing four meters high on either side.

This couldn't be a figment of his imagination. He would have imagined someplace much nicer than this.

Rolling onto his back once more, Poe squinted up at a sky lit by multiple suns. Disbelief settled over him.

He was alive.

Somehow, in some way, he was still alive. He knew there was a reason he shouldn't be, but couldn't for the moment recall what it was.

Grimacing, he sat up, and took a minute to catch his breath. The bottom of the ravine was littered with chunks of rock and dirt from above. Domandari. For some reason, that name came into his head. That's where he was, in one of the chasms that cut arbitrarily through the land here, ruptured by miners over the years.

A pressure in his boot. He dug it out to find BB-8's transceiver where he'd hidden it. His heart beat faster. Pressing the button, he radioed to his droid. Only static responded. The metal in the soil must be affecting communication. He needed to get out of this gully.

Unable to see very far in either direction, he picked one at random and walked for what felt like hours, convinced for all but the first few minutes that the other direction had been the wiser path. At last the walls grew short enough for him to scale. Pulling himself to the top, he flopped out on the ground and looked around quickly. He was in a deserted corner of the planet at the edge of the abandoned plateaus, but in the distance was one of Domandari's ubiquitous smelting factories belching gray smoke into the sky.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he staggered to his feet and began walking.

* * *

"I clobbered a stormtrooper, stole his uniform, and came looking for you," Poe explained.

"But...how?" Finn asked. He seemed to be asking that a lot lately. "How did you survive?"

Poe looked at Phasma. "She faked my execution. I can only assume it's because she's the spy."

Finn's eyes raced back to the woman in his grip. She was glaring at Poe with unmasked loathing. Hux slurred a disbelieving curse from his stupor in the corner.

Then a faint powering down sounded from the holoprojector on the table. For a moment everyone just stared at it, then Phasma rose to her feet, her pale face stricken. Shrugging off Finn's now loose grasp, she stepped over to the device and touched it gently. It remained silent.

"Kylo," she breathed.

Hux laughed weakly, holding his injured shoulder. "Must have heard everything," he wheezed, breathing through the pain. "He knows you're a traitor. And soon Snoke will too."

With a shout of fury, Phasma spun and fired a shot from her blaster, hitting Hux square in the chest. The man crumpled immediately.

The other men just stared, their own weapons at the ready. But she just scowled at Hux for a few seconds, then calmly released the blaster, adjusted its strap on her shoulder and picked up her helmet. Turning, she began pushing buttons on the holoprojector, deleting its memory stores.

"Is he dead?" Finn asked cautiously.

"Stun shot," Phasma spat, turning to a nearby console and pressing more controls. "Just like your friend here." Finished, she spun and took a step toward Poe. "Everyone else I've freed blessed their good fortune and ran away," she said acidly. "Why couldn't you?"

The sound of pounding feet interrupted his response. Whatever Nines had done to clear the building of guards, its effect had expired. "We gotta go!" Poe shouted, running over to collect the unconscious Hux.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked, incredulous.

"The leader of the First Order's military? You think I'm going to leave a prize like that lying around?"

"There's no time, Poe! We have to get out of here!"

"Then help me!"

With Phasma tacitly leading the way, they made it as far as the alley behind the great hall before meeting opposition. Dragging Hux between them, Finn and Poe couldn't get their weapons up in time, but Phasma took out the foremost troopers with two quick blasts before kicking open a door and pushing them into a dark storehouse.

In the center sat a series of sandspeeders, each attached to a train of tonnage carts.

"Get on," she commanded.

Always eager to drive something new, Poe dumped the general's body in the first cart and hopped into the driver's seat of the nearest speeder. Finn made to follow, but Phasma stopped him. Pointing at the back of the train, she ordered him to detach them.

"Me?"

The sandspeeder powered up. "Hang on to something!" Poe shouted, gripping the controls. Phasma swung into the seat behind him, leaving Finn to seize a mining cart as the convoy leapt forward, bursting through the building's wall and into the street beyond. Finn just managed to duck inside as torn metal sheeting sliced overhead. When he sat back up, he had to duck again as blasterfire rocketed from the troopers in the square. Phasma fired back, her blasts skimming the air past his cart.

When the answering fire from the scrambling stormtroopers died down, Finn rose again and peered back. They were cutting through city streets, metal buildings flashing past. For the moment, there was no one in pursuit.

He knew that wouldn't last.

Throwing himself over the side of the cart, Finn began working furiously at the coupling arms between his and the last cart. The heavy pin swiveled easily, but proved difficult to lift. At last, with repeated yanks, the pin popped free, setting the rear cart loose. Finn fell back with the pin in his hand, then slammed forward as the convoy gained a quick burst of speed from its newly lightened load.

Bruised but pleased, he began climbing into the next cart to repeat the process. He'd only reached the third one from the front when their pursuers appeared.

Clouds radiating from the dusty ground, a trio of sandspeeders, sans mining carts, approached from the troops' barracks at the edge of the city.

"We need to lose some weight!" Poe shouted, pushing the controls as far as they would go.

Finn threw himself into the next cart before spinning back to work at the coupling. This one proved more resilient than the first, refusing to budge at his first try. Using the pin still in his hand, he began to hammer at the rusted metal.

Blasterfire streaked past. Phasma brought her weapon up and aimed carefully before firing a single shot, piercing the hull of the left speeder, sending it and its occupants careening out of control. Her second and third blasts missed as the remaining crafts began evasive actions.

At last the pin gave and Finn pulled the three carts behind him free, causing the sandspeeder to rocket forward, catching Finn by surprise with just how much. He tumbled out the back of the cart headfirst, just managing to catch his fingers on the edge before his legs followed, the rocky ground tearing past only inches from his face. Hitting a bump, the entire train lurched, and Finn bounced back inside, where he sank to the bottom of the cart, shaking.

A series of blasts struck the metal side. Unwisely, he peered out to gauge the distance of their pursuers when Phasma's return shots cut past him, singeing his hair. He spun to glare at her, and she shrugged.

The speeder jerked hard to the right, nearly toppling them both as Poe swerved to avoid impending disaster; ahead, spanning as far as could be seen in both directions, was a vast chasm easily twenty times wider than any which cut through Domandar City.

Behind them, the remaining stormtroopers changed course too, slicing diagonally across the dusty plain to intercept them where they raced along the chasm's edge. Their unencumbered speeders were far faster than their quarry's.

"Drop the last car!" Poe cried, shifting away as the misshapen crevice came momentarily closer. "I see a place we can jump this if we can drop one more car!"

Finn looked over the edge into the next cart, where General Hux remained slumped on the floor. Phasma fired continuously at the other speeders, but they avoided heavy damage and continued to close the distance. Ahead, Finn could see the gap Poe had mentioned, where the sides of the chasm nearly touched.

If they could only drop one more car.

There was no time for him to clamber over, even if he didn't get shot in the process, which was increasingly unlikely, judging from the increased accuracy of the troopers' shots. Reaching down to the coupler, Finn seized the locking pin and pulled with all his strength. It didn't budge.

Seeing what he was doing, Poe twisted around in his seat. "Finn, what are you doing!"

He pulled again. The pin slipped out halfway.

"Finn, don't! I'm telling you, don't do-"

Their chance to cross was straight ahead. With one last yank, the pin was in his hand and his cart was free.

It struck the ground with such force, its occupant flew five meters before colliding with the rocky clay, tumbling repeatedly. When he finally came to rest, it was a long minute before he could comprehend what he was hearing: engines approaching at a rapid speed. Unable to sit up, his confused brain barely recognized that the speeders were almost upon him.

Here we go, he thought. The stormtroopers had reached him. He'd be dead before he could regain the ability to move his limbs.

Explosions tore through the ground where the speeders were bearing down, sending concussive ripples through the earth, as a full squadron of X-Wing fighters swooped past overhead.

However dazed, Finn still managed to sit up for a sight like _that_.

Winging by overhead, a second battalion followed the first, and with the pursuing sandspeeders eliminated, charged straight toward Domandar City.

By the time the military shipyards were nothing but smoking craters, Finn became aware of footsteps behind him. Turning stiffly, he saw Poe approach, an enormous grin spread across his face. With a triumphant gesture at the distant aerial assault, he came to a stop and looked down at his friend.

"You just can't leave a First Order base quietly, can you?"


	13. Chapter XIII

The transporter was silent except for the ambient noise of a ship in lightspeed, and General Hux snoring softly where he'd been dumped on the floor with the axillary flight vests, BB-8 peering at him curiously.

Finn sat alone in one row of crew seats, arms crossed, one leg jiggling in agitation. Completely unperturbed, Captain Phasma sat alone in the other.

Conscious of the tension, the others had crammed themselves in the cockpit, communicating with the X-Wing pilots escorting their craft back to base. Jess Pava, Snap Wexley and BB-8 had successfully rejoined Nien Nunb at the transporter, reporting all they'd seen back to Resistance Base on D'Qar, which quickly ordered the squadron's attack. Without the resources needed for a ground assault or the knowledge of which mine held the civilian prisoners, the Resistance had settled for the obvious military installations, eliminating as much of the First Order's interstellar capabilities as possible before leaving the system. Overall, the offensive had been an unqualified success.

Finn glared at the woman who had made his miserable former life only more so. He simply couldn't accept she was the spy Leia had mentioned. As far as he was concerned, she'd helped kill Slip - perhaps even more blameworthy than whomever had fired the fatal blastershot. Her insistence that the troopers under her charge remain ignorant of the situation on Jakku had left them unprepared for battle against the armed villagers. Against what Kylo Ren would do with them next.

 _How_ could she have saved civilians on Domandari, but allowed those on Jakku to be slaughtered?

Phasma sat staring at nothing, unmoved by the anger emanating from the former trooper across from her. He'd ordered her wrists bound when they'd reached the transporter, after being overruled on his suggestion that they leave her behind on Domandari.

"So how _did_ you escape the trash compactor?"

Her steely blue eyes settled on him. Studied him. "As usual, your efforts were substandard, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven."

"It's _Finn,"_ he growled.

Her lips curled into a faint sneer.

She was sickly pale beneath all that Domadarian dust, with prominent cheekbones and colorless hair spiked like thorns atop her head. Finn had never before wondered what the woman looked like behind the chrome mask, and he was momentarily disturbed by how individual she appeared. How human. He'd never really thought of her as human.

That bothered him more than he liked to admit.

 _How_ could she be the spy? Nines had mentioned that she performed most executions herself. Ostensibly to allow the condemned a chance at escape, like Poe? And Finn recalled that she'd given in to their demands to lower Starkiller's shields surprisingly easily. Sure, she'd threatened them, but in the end had done what they asked without argument.

But everything else… The innocents who had died on her order...

"All those _lives,"_ he heard himself say, disbelieving.

Phasma's gaze hardened. "My presence in First Order command did more good than you'll ever know. Abhorrent as it was, I did what I had to, to maintain my duplicity." She leaned forward, eyes locked on his. "Didn't you? Disguising your true feelings, for years. Misleading all who knew you, as to who you really were?"

Finn pointed at her face. "Don't you _dare_ compare me to you. We are nothing alike."

She stared at him for a long moment, then calmly sat back. "We have far more in common than you think."

His finger turned on himself. " _I_ never murdered anyone!"

"Haven't you? Did all those troopers survive your assault on the _Finalizer_? The battle on Takodana? The destruction of Starkiller Base?"

Finn was shaking his head, breath hissing through his nose. "That is _not_ the same! Killing for survival is far different than killing to prove one's loyalty!"

Her smug look made him want to retrieve his blaster. "You've killed to prove your loyalty to the Resistance, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven. Don't imagine for a second that you haven't."

Finn stood. He had to get away from her or he'd do something the others might object to. Marching toward the cockpit, he spun back. "The Resistance never asked me to fight. _That's_ the difference. They never told me – _forced me_ – like the First Order did. After escaping you, if I wanted to, I never had to see another battlefield again."

Without looking over, she arched an eyebrow. "In our lives, everything's a battlefield."

* * *

Leia met the returning pilots on the airfield, congratulating them personally on a successful mission. Last in line, Poe Dameron walked up to her, beaming with pride. "General Organa," he announced, gesturing across the tarmac with a sweep of his arm. "Allow me to introduce Captain Phasma and General Hux of First Order command." The pair was being led from the transporter by Pava and Wexley, bound and blindfolded.

Leia studied them a moment, then gave Poe a look that said clearly, _Only you could go scout an enemy base, and return with their two highest officers._

Reading her expression perfectly, his cocky grin widened. With a wink, he turned and walked back to meet Finn, who was glaring at Phasma's back as the latter disappeared into the base. "You alright? This isn't weird for you, is it?" he joked.

Finn didn't smile. "She still hasn't proven anything, you know. _You_ were the first to mention there was a spy."

Poe followed his gaze, thoughtful for a minute. He was about to respond when an alarm went up, sirens whooping across the airstrip. Everywhere, Resistance personnel began scrambling.

Finn spun in place. "What, what is it?"

"First Order retaliation!" Poe shouted, running for his X-Wing, calling for BB-8.

Finn remained frozen amid the chaos. _How?_ he wondered. They'd destroyed the First Order's best fleet on Domandari. He knew there were more, so many more, but how had a response been arranged so quickly? How had the rebels been discovered here?

Fighters climbed the garrison towers, seizing ordnance launchers and whirling them around to face the northern sky. A dark shape appeared in the distance, black alloy materializing through gauzy white clouds.

Finn was knocked aside when Snap Wexley came running past with a blaster cannon. "Led 'em right to us, didn't you, stormtrooper?" He knelt, planting the cannon on the ground, adjusting its trajectory toward the approaching ship.

The shadow grew larger, gaining definition. It was oddly shaped, somewhat like a W. Not a Destroyer, definitely not a TIE Fighter, the two crafts Finn would expect the First Order to dispatch against a rebel base.

He stepped closer, mesmerized, squinting at the craft as X-Wings powered up all around him. Unless he was mistaken, the approaching ship appeared to be damaged; some large piece was hanging off the bottom.

There were only two people Finn knew who could fly something in that condition. And one was in a ship behind him.

"No!" he shouted, blocking Snap's weapon before he could unleash it. "Don't fire! Don't fire!" he shouted at the gunners in the towers.

"Get out of the way, stormtrooper!"

Poe jumped down from the cockpit. "He's right!" he shouted, tossing quadnoculars to Wexley. "It's not Ren!"

An uneasy silence fell over the base, as every eye watched the damaged shuttle approach. It slipped closer, leveling off in a cleared space immediately in front of base command, then lowered slowly until it rested on the earth, dropping crookedly to one side.

The disembarkment ramp lowered and a petite figure bounded out, heading straight for Finn. Rey ran into his arms and they hugged fiercely, spinning a half-circle on the tarmac.

"You're okay!" she cried tearfully.

"So are you!"

She took a step back and looked him over. "You're all dirty!"

He laughed. "It's been an interesting few days."

Poe stepped up, looking at the shuttle with his head tilted to one side. Beside him, BB-8 struck the same pose, as a piece of deflector shielding fell off and hit the ground. "Nice ship."

Rey peered around Finn and saw the same thing. With a shrug, she just laughed. "It's been an interesting few days."

Hairy brown feet appeared on the ramp, revealing a towering Wookiee, who had to duck to clear the opening. He reached the ground and looked around, uncomfortable with all the attention.

Fortunately for Chewbacca, the base's focus was immediately deflected elsewhere. Behind him, hands clasping arms inside his flowing sleeves, lightsaber suspended from his belt, came Luke Skywalker.


	14. Chapter XIV

The all-clear was signaled at last, and Leia pushed past her overzealous guards, reminding them over her shoulder as she left the bunker that _she_ was the one in charge here. Admiral Statura called back that her protection was of the utmost importance, but Leia had already turned the corner, ignoring this well-worn lecture.

C-3PO tried his best to keep up. "May I remind you, Prin- General, that Admiral Statura has only your safety in mind when-"

"Statura can mind his own safety," Leia grumbled back. "I have a Resistance base to run."

The command center was built below ground, carved into the hills of D'Qar itself, the planet's stone and even foliage showing in places along the walls like natural abutments. It had stood since the Rebel Alliance founded it during the Galactic Civil War, and nothing short of another Death Star would destroy it, a scenario in which one's location in the building would hardly make a difference to one's survival. And yet her guards insisted she be moved to the deepest recesses any time the excellent but over-reactive scouts located around the planet spotted so much as a bird in the sky.

She stopped so suddenly, C-3PO had marched clear past before he realized it and turned back. She'd been too annoyed at the unexpected delay to their tactical planning following their success on Domandari to realize she sensed something.

Something astonishing.

Leia pressed a hand to her chest, a sudden tightness around her heart. C-3PO asked her something, but she barely heard him. Forcing her feet forward, enjoining her lungs to breathe, Leia proceeded forward, turning away from the command room and instead taking the corridor which led back to the landing strip. Before she reached it, a tall brown walking carpet blocked her way, head tilted knowingly to one side.

Leia felt her eyes prickle. She swallowed hard, and gave her old friend a warm smile. They hugged, not speaking. Not needing to.

Chewbacca stepped back and gestured for her to go on. She squeezed his arm briefly, then continued on her path.

A path which led her outside, to the now-quiet airstrip, where her brother stood waiting.

He was dressed in tattered robes, his face unshaven, his mouth a grim line. Pulling back his hood, a storm of emotions was revealed in each their gazes. The kind of emotions which could never be properly put into words.

"You've come back," Leia said unnecessarily, finding this to be one of those rare times she didn't know what to say.

Luke's eyes dropped away, then rose slowly. "Something has happened..."

"What?" she asked, when he didn't continue. She took a step forward, sensing the turmoil inside him. "Luke, _tell me._ "

"I have made a grave mistake," he said at last, voice etched with pain. "The consequences of which, I genuinely fear, will eclipse any mistake I've ever made before."

* * *

Leia dropped heavily into her chair, the full ramifications of what Luke was saying only now setting in. The information Luke had given to R2D2 to give to her... If the First Order should discover it, it wouldn't just mean the end of the Resistance, not even the end of the war.

It would mean the end of freedom in the galaxy forever.

Her office was a small space, a former munitions closet, cluttered now with supply lists, troop assignments and reconnaissance reports. A small window high on one wall provided the only natural light, and Luke stood beneath it looking out at the sky, unaware that, when she found the need and the time, Leia often stood in the same place doing the same thing.

She could see the remorse in his anguished face, and worked to set aside the sinking dread of his revelation. "You had no way of knowing Artoo would be taken."

What went unsaid was that, yet again, Ben had blocked Luke's ability to foresee what was to happen.

"I thought it was Rey that brought you back," Leia coaxed. "The Force within her. I felt it, too."

Luke shook his head slightly, a touch of amazement in his look. "She's more powerful than any Jedi I've seen since... Since Master Yoda, perhaps."

He'd sensed that power when she was a child, of course, but had believed it was combined with some ability in her brother. There was no precedent for the Force to manifest itself in one so young, so strongly. Then, because of Luke's foolish assumption, Devrun had struggled so much in the academy, miserable and isolated. Defenseless. Once again, at risk to others, Luke had been wrong. So terribly wrong.

"It's the fact that she is so strong that makes me hesitant to train her," he admitted. "No one person should have that much ability with the Force."

"No one person should have that much ability _without training_ , Luke. You _must_ train her. With everything that's happened, this could be our only hope."

He didn't argue, but she knew what he was thinking. What he had sensed. There was a darkness in Rey. When she had fought Ben on the island, so angry about her brother... She had barely tapped the power there.

"We'll figure out what to do about Artoo-Deetoo," Leia assured him. "As for Rey... Secrets feed the Dark Side, Luke. It thrives on ignorance." She looked at her brother imploringly. "Tell her the truth."


	15. Chapter XV

Freshly showered, Finn walked purposefully through the halls of the base, smoothing his borrowed shirt, straightening his posture, drawing and releasing deep breaths to bolster himself. He couldn't help letting a small smile escape when he thought of where he was going. Rey was rooming with Jess Pava in the pilots' quarters, a distance that allowed him ample time to practice what he wanted to say.

When he was barely halfway to his goal, however, he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of Pava leading Captain Phasma, no longer wearing chrome armor but her standard-issue stormtrooper body glove and boots, wrists still bound.

"Where is she going?" he asked Pava when they reached him.

"General Organa requested a meeting."

Finn noticed Phasma scanning his neatly pressed shirt with a smirk. He glared back. "I'll take it from here."

Pava hesitated only briefly, glancing between them. She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Finn took Phasma's elbow and they began walking. After a minute, the captain said, "Your desire to be present at this meeting is curious, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven."

He felt his teeth clench at her use of his old designation. "Not really." Stopping at the door, Finn knocked. "I just want to be there when she decides your fate."

Phasma just smiled.

Calling for them to enter, Leia rose from her chair when they did. She glanced briefly at Finn's neat clothing without comment, then studied Phasma with an experienced eye. "So you're the spy we've been working with."

Phasma lifted her chin, but said nothing.

Leia crossed her arms, unimpressed. "I don't have to tell you, if you can't prove who you are, then your stay here will not be pleasant. Or long," she added, a warning in her voice.

This time it was Finn who smiled.

Until Phasma spoke. "You have in your possession a cypher cube," she told Leia. "Left to you by General Enborn."

Leia tried to hide her surprise, but was not entirely successful. Phasma went on. "The proof of my identity is inside."

Leia eyed the other woman for a moment, then walked to a shelf on the wall, retrieving a small silver box. "She could have seen that sitting there!" Finn objected, but she shushed him with a hand.

"What you say means nothing," she said to Phasma, "if I cannot get inside. What's the word key?"

The captain turned to look straight at Finn. "'Phasma.'"

Eyebrows raised, Leia glanced at Finn, then began aligning the proper keys. It clicked open.

Phasma held up her binders, hands splayed, with a smug smile. Finn looked to Leia, who was scanning the box's contents, an objection waiting on the tip of his tongue, if only he could think of one.

After a minute, the general looked at Finn almost apologetically. He shook his head, disbelieving. Phasma rattled the binders. "I'm waiting, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven."

* * *

The meeting was already underway when they entered. With assistance from Chewbacca, Rey completed a detailed report to Leia's admirals, best pilots, and technical staff of the encounter with Kylo Ren on the planet apparently named Ahch-To. Major Ematt had just stood to recount what little they were able to discern about the enemy from his shuttle, but all speech halted at the sight of Captain Phasma, not only present in Resistance Command without blindfold or binders, but in the presence of General Organa. As she took her place beside the table, she met every pair, trio and quartet of eyes unflinchingly, a smug smile on her pale lips.

General Organa gave the room a look that said she was well aware of any awkwardness, while daring any to challenge her tacit approval, then commanded Major Ematt to continue. Finn stood in the darkness behind Phasma, arms crossed, glaring at her back, while Snap Wexley, of all people, looked as if he felt exactly the same as Finn.

Poor Ematt stuttered back to his speech, explaining that there was a great deal of Ren's shuttle they were unable to access, due to layers of encryption even their best techs couldn't breach. Once he apologetically finished, the general thanked him and said to the room at large, "Some years ago, my predecessor, General Enborn, found an opportunity to place a Resistance fighter in the ranks of First Order command." Over the bewildered mumblings from those not already privy to this information, Leia continued. "Now returned from that posting, Captain Phasma will be of great assistance to us, I'm sure."

Rey's gaze met Finn's momentarily, as surprised as any, while the latter just scowled harder. He shook his head to her unasked question. This was most definitely _not_ something he'd been aware of.

"She damn well better be," Wexley said in response to Leia's announcement, causing a murmuring of agreement in the room.

Phasma arched a pale eyebrow, not just unperturbed by the hostility, but seemingly enjoying it. "What would you like to know, Captain?"

"Everything," he countered. "Interstellar capabilities, troop numbers, future First Order plans..."

"I have just completed an exhaustive report to your general," Phasma replied, with deliberate boredom. "I'm certain, should she deem you...worthy," she said, scanning his uniform, "she'll be keeping you informed."

"Why didn't you assassinate Kylo Ren?"

Every eye in the room went to Rey, so no one noticed the flash of pain in Leia's eyes at the suggestion. Phasma's answer came as coolly as ever. "My mission was Snoke."

"And?" Poe demanded. "Where is he?"

For the first time, frustration plainly showed on the captain's face. "I was never able to discern that information."

"Nothing? Not even a system?"

She eyed the commander coldly, but did not respond. Finn was revisited by a flash of his stormtrooper days. When Captain Phasma was asked a question which had already been answered, discipline often followed.

"Why did you come back then?" Wexley demanded.

Her eyes hardened on Poe. "I did what I could to aid the Resistance, but I had no intention of ever returning."

Wexley had just opened his mouth again when General Organa cut in. There were far greater worries than one spy's intentions. She asked all extraneous personnel to vacate the room, allowing only Admirals Statura and Ackbar, and Finn, Rey, Poe and Chewbacca to remain. To no one's liking, Phasma was also one of the few allowed to stay.

"Our concern right now is the return of Artoo-Deetoo," Leia announced to the reduced crowd. "He was onboard the _Millennium Falcon_ on Ahch-To when it was seized, and his recovery is paramount. His memory stores contain information vital to the Resistance."

Fresh murmuring and groans permeated the room upon this new development. _"Rebels,"_ Finn muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head. _"Why_ do you keep giving valuable information to your droids?"

C3PO tilted toward him. "Couldn't agree with you more, sir. Droids are nothing but trouble." He paused for a moment. "Well. Not all of them, of course. Some can be quite useful."

Poe Dameron and Admiral Ackbar immediately started asking questions, but Leia refused to elaborate. Knowing the details of the endangered information wasn't critical to finding it, and the fewer who knew its contents, the safer they would all be.

Rey, overcome with guilt that she had been the one to let R2D2 be taken, spoke again, addressing a thought which had bothered her for days. "Do we know yet how Kylo Ren found us on Ahch-To?"

The room quieted, and after a look from Leia, Phasma answered reluctantly, explaining briefly about Gannis Ducain and the safeguards it left on board the _Millennium Falcon_.

"Then that's how we find Artoo!" Poe said excitedly, smacking the table. "Tell us how to track the _Falcon,"_ he urged Phasma.

She shook her head. "Kylo Ren took the tracing device."

"Then we find this Ducain and have him make another."

Clearly, that possibility had not occurred to the spy captain. For the second time, she found herself regretting a spared execution. When Poe repeated his recommendation, she refused to respond.

This reluctance caused the others in the room to grow angry. Admiral Statura demanded a private meeting with General Organa to discuss the wisdom of allowing the captain such questionable trust, Chewbacca moaned a suggestion about using a Jedi mind trick to obtain the information, and Finn began to argue that they should toss Phasma back in the cells with Snoke's other supporter.

But the general remained as silent as the captain, watching her, experience and wisdom seeing something the others could not. She advised Statura to work with Major Ematt on dissecting the shuttle which had brought Luke, Chewie and Rey to D'Qar, then ordered everyone except Phasma to clear the room. Among the grumbling outcasts, Finn stepped into the bustling hall looking for Rey, but believed he missed her exit somewhere behind Chewbacca.

In the command center, Leia studied Phasma's stony face, her refusal to lead the Resistance to Ben. Without preamble, she said quietly, "You're in love with him."

For the first time, Captain Phasma was taken off guard. She blinked in surprise at the general, then quickly hid it behind an angry glare, chin lifting in defiance.

Leia's face softened, assured that her guess was correct. "We need to recover our droid, or else all the sacrifice in this war – yours, mine, everyone's – was for nothing. But I can guarantee you," she promised, locking her fingers together in front of her chest, "I will do everything in my power to see that he's unharmed."

Phasma just stared back with glowering doubt. The General of the Resistance wanted Kylo taken safely? She certainly acted sincere, but Phasma was well used to duplicity. And her loyalty was to Leia's predecessor; the two women had never met before that day.

Leia could see she would need to explain herself. They were perhaps the only two people on the planet who wanted to keep Ben safe.

"I'm his mother," she said simply.

This time, Phasma was unable to contain her shock. She shifted back a half-step as her arms fell to her sides, blue eyes seeing the general in an entirely new way. There was no possible way the woman was lying. Not about that. Phasma's arms crossed again, indecision on her pale face.

Sadness tinged Leia's eyes. A rare moment of powerlessness. "Help me bring him home," she implored. "Tell me where to find Gannis Ducain."


	16. Chapter XVI

With nothing but faith in Phasma's information and Ducain's ability to help to rely on, Leia left to gather her officers and organize an extraction mission. Phasma remained where she was, arms still crossed, turning only slightly to lean back against the strategy table, deep in thought. After a minute, she roused herself enough to say, "You can show yourself now."

A moment's hesitation, then a shuffling indicated the person had emerged from hiding. Phasma looked over her shoulder, studying Rey with narrowed eyes.

So this was the girl Kylo sought so restlessly. Phasma was unimpressed. She certainly didn't look like much.

Rey glared back, hoping her discomfort about disobeying General Organa didn't show. She felt terrible for betraying that trust, but if there were a way for Rey to find the man who killed her brother, she was willing to do anything. The familiar dark feeling stirred anew at the thought, rarely sinking into dormancy any more, always present in her mind at the slightest provocation.

Of course, this provocation was _not_ slight. What she'd heard disgusted her.

She waited in silence as long as she could, but when Phasma just stared back, Rey couldn't help but say with disdain, _"Kylo Ren?"_

Phasma faced her slowly and matched Rey's scornful look. Rey braced for an attack, ready to retort, but all Phasma said was _"Finn?"_ in the same voice.

Rey felt the darkness momentarily eclipsed by her surprise. Was it that obvious?

"What about me?"

Rey jumped. Finn stood in the doorway, glancing between them. Phasma turned and looked him up and down. "Exactly," she replied coldly, then walked past him and out the door.

Confused, Finn looked at Rey. He was about to ask again, but she interrupted before he could. "You heard where Ducain is?" He nodded. "When do they leave to retrieve it?"

"As soon as possible." He smirked. "It seems someone landed some First Order heap of junk on the airfield and they have to move it first."

She smiled weakly.

"What did Phasma say to you?" he asked sharply, glancing behind him, ready to hunt the captain down.

"Nothing," Rey replied quickly. "Really."

He walked over, concerned by the haunted look in her eyes. "Tell me what happened with Skywalker," he urged quietly, correctly guessing where the real cause of her disquiet resided.

She shrugged, looking away from his scrutiny, remembering. "He won't train me." Before Finn could respond, Rey added, "He says Kylo Ren killed my brother."

One thing she liked about Finn was his quick and demonstrative reactions. It made her feel as if her own strong emotions weren't entirely unreasonable. There was something satisfying in seeing her own initial shock at this news mirrored in the face of someone who cared.

So he was still shaking his head, trying to comprehend it, when Rey found herself continuing, saying more than she'd intended. More than she'd realized herself.

"I feel this _rage,"_ she whispered, eyes shining. "I'm just...so _angry,_ Finn. It's all I can think about, all I can _feel."_ She bit her lip, hard. "All this time I've been waiting, all these years spent just _surviving._ And he was the reason they never came home..."

Tears fell at last, her lungs struggled to draw air, and then Finn was holding her, holding her upright and holding her together. It felt so good, to just let the emotions come out instead of assail her from within. Rey sobbed softly against his shoulder, each breath coming easier than the one before, as the heaviness and pain leaked out, seeped away. Rey couldn't recall a time she'd cried in front of anyone, let alone _on_ anyone, but she allowed herself this indulgence, because it felt so healing. So safe. Finally, something felt right. Finally, something might actually help wash the darkness away.

She put her arms around him in turn, in gratitude, and squeezed tight.

Finn flinched.

Rey pulled back immediately, distraught. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," he assured her, waving it off. "Better every day."

But the reminder of his grievous injury at Kylo Ren's hand made all the darkness rush back, as if it had never left, as if it had just been teasing her that it ever would. Rey found herself hating the man even more than before. How could she have forgotten the hurt he'd caused Finn? She was selfish, thinking of her own pain, her own injury, when those she cared for had suffered too.

Wiping hastily at her face, Rey quickly sidestepped Finn's reaching grasp, pretending not to notice it, and asked him what he'd done in their time apart, desperate to get his attention off her selfishness and self-pity. Her moment of weakness.

With reluctance, he dropped his arms, and began talking, growing more animated the more he shared. He recounted an exciting story about traveling to some planet called Domandari, being captured by stormtroopers, escaping execution, and capturing some general of the First Order. "Excluding Snoke and Ren, that's half their highest command now here on D'Qar," he concluded with a touch of pride.

Rey nodded absentmindedly. "Good."

He spoke for a while about Captain Phasma's history, and everything he'd learned during the meeting earlier with General Organa, but Rey heard none of it. She was no longer listening. The reminder of Phasma made her wonder again, how could she use the captain's information to ensure Rey would be the first to find Kylo Ren?


	17. Chapter XVII

At that same moment, Kylo Ren was thinking just as intensely about Rey.

His silent boots paced restlessly across the bare floor of the echoing hangar, one of only two structures on the austere planet, the other being easily ten times in size. This world, Reth-hem, was a short trip from Domandari, but out of the unblinking gaze of its suns, and the untrustworthy eyes of its stormtroopers.

The lone figure present matched his spartan surroundings. His black hooded robe and cape hung from his lean frame, unadorned except the tears and singe marks sustained in battle. The wearer's face, gaunt from refusing food and water in an effort to master his body's contemptible weaknesses, was framed by long black hair and bisected by a disfiguring scar, acquired in the same fight which left one shoulder slightly curled in, damaged beyond repair by an untrained scavenger wielding a lightsaber for the very first time in her life.

Rey.

The more he paced, the more Kylo Ren scowled. She had defeated him in battle, blocked his telepathic intrusion. Worse - she'd _reversed_ it. The girl's strength on Ahch-To had astounded him. She had lifted his ruined shuttle without training - on sheer will. There was a woeful lack of control, to be sure, but with a skill any would envy, yet too few possessed.

Had he been too hasty, ordering the attack of Ahch-To? Kylo still sensed the continued existence of Skywalker, still felt his presence in the Force, even at that indeterminable distance. But Rey was different. He'd never perceived her presence with the Force, even when they were in the same room. Her ability to mask her talent was both fascinating and infuriating. One day, he'd learn how she accomplished such a feat, and take that skill for himself.

Because if Skywalker was still alive, Kylo did not doubt that Rey was too.

The familiar question taunted again. Who was her brother? Which of those sniveling, untalented Jedi postulants had shared Rey's lineage? Did she have another sibling? Kylo recalled no other student mentioning a younger sister, but he hadn't actually paid attention to their pitiful conversations anyway.

Of course, there remained another option than destroying the girl and the rest of her family. Was there still a chance to get such talent on his side? He had never considered taking on a pupil before Rey, but the Supreme Leader would be most pleased by his initiative.

Yet the unsatisfactory outcome of killing Han Solo remained on his mind. Snoke's promise of his being whole after killing his father was unfulfilled, and Kylo was resentful. Perhaps he would keep Rey's training a secret...

The creeping feeling interrupted his thoughts, as if objecting to them. It swirled around him, enveloping him like a cold film, breaking his concentration. He spun, irate, to glare at the source of his foreboding.

The _Millennium Falcon_ stood as the sole ship in the vast hangar, built to house a pair of Star Destroyers, among smaller crafts. Its solitude was the only reason he hadn't reduced it to smoldering rubble. Without it, he had no way off Reth-hem.

Yet its inescapable, haunting presence sorely tested its worth.

The cockpit was dark, a singular eye casting blame from above, imparting incoherent judgment in his head. Whispering without sound. Communicating without words. He clasped his gloved hands over his ears as the cold castigation crawled over him, condemning him. Finding him weak.

 _"Get out of my mind!"_ he roared.

The shout reverberated in the immense structure, over and over.

Then silence returned.

Lowering his hands slowly, the bitter resentment rolled over him in a nauseating wave. As skilled as Rey was, she was nonetheless an idealistic fool. She'd seen Han Solo, that smuggler and scoundrel, as a father figure. A mentor. He'd seen it in her mind. But Kylo Ren knew better. He knew all too well what that relationship – that cruel hope – was really like.

Snoke was the only mentor Kylo needed. And surely Kylo was the only pupil Snoke deserved. He was all that remained of Snoke's powerful triumvirate. Hux, always so desperate to prove himself useful, had instead gone and gotten himself captured. By the same stormtrooper from the snowy battlefield of Starkiller Base, FN-2187. Ren's blood boiled at the thought of that traitor, escaping First Order grasp again, this time on Domandari.

With help from Phasma-

 _Ben…_

The sound cut into his enraged ruminations. He turned again to the hulking freighter standing passively nearby. The scar on his face contorted as his brows drew together. The ship had never truly spoken before. Never an actual word. Never a name-

 _Ben…_

A faint murmur. A mere shadow, from deep within the ship.

Kylo's skin went cold.

The _Falcon_ 's eye watched him unblinkingly. Heart pounding, hardly aware what he was doing, he took a step toward it.

 _Are you there?_

The voice...so familiar. Could it...

He took another step.

The ramp was still lowered from his hasty exit. The dark interior as empty as when he'd left. Yet...

 _Ben?_

He entered as if in a dream. The quivering voice grew louder with his proximity. A greenish glow emanated from the lounge at the center of the ship. Brighter with each syllable, duller between.

 _Answer me, please…_

He came around the corner and could see the onboard holoprojector, lit from below.

And the face of his mother looking back.

Her gaze met his and her disembodied hand appeared in front of her mouth.

Moving without thought, he stepped closer. Close enough to make out the familiar braids in her hair. The unfamiliar tears in her eyes.

For a long moment, neither said a word. He still wasn't sure this wasn't a dream.

Then, "Ben..."

Somehow, right then, the name wasn't entirely wrong. Somehow, from her, it didn't scrape at his soul like it did from anyone else. Somehow, it was vaguely reminiscent of a time without heartache, without grief.

Still, he said nothing.

His mother swallowed, gathered herself. "I miss you," she said softly.

His jaw clenched as the walls seemed to lean inward. The atmosphere module was turned off - it was a struggle to breathe onboard the idle ship.

"Talk to me…"

All around him was expectation. Eyes watching, waiting. Needing him to be something he could never be. Wanting him to end this torture, this unrelenting pain...

He was leaning toward the table. His hand rose slowly from his side.

"Ben?"

He caught himself, blinking hard. He was not Ben Solo. This woman – this phantom – was nothing but a test, trying to undermine him, undo all his progress. Everything he'd achieved, where others had failed. She was weak.

He was not.

With a roar, Kylo engaged his lightsaber and stabbed through the holo-table, leaving a gaping hole of melted metal until it was dripping orange-red fire, the only light on the darkened ship.

Except a faint glow from behind him. Kylo turned slowly, and his tormented gaze settled on the R2 droid, watching him silently from beneath the floor.


	18. Chapter XVIII

The ancient Togulev 1500-L powered up sluggishly, like an ornery happabore awakened from a particularly satisfying nap and in no real hurry to be put to use. Especially not on a mission as critical as reaching the distant smuggler's planet where Gannis Ducain was, at least until very recently, holed up.

It was a peculiar craft, with two off-center seats perched above a disproportionately large cargo hold, and flat, square-shaped wings which folded awkwardly underneath. The 1500-L was designed for planet-hopping commerce, not long-range travel, but at the moment the Resistance had nothing else to spare. First Order retaliation for the attack on Domandari was still a very real possibility, and General Organa would not leave D-Qar without every possible defense.

Poe Dameron was just completing his pre-flight check and glancing over his shoulder at Nien Nunb to verify the status of his when he saw Snap Wexley waving his arms from the ground. He knew Wexley was unhappy to not be selected for this mission – he'd made that clear by his extensive, impassioned arguing just that morning, – but this was ridiculous.

With a touch of impatience, Poe activated the external comm on his helmet. "Captain?"

"Hux wants to talk!" Wexley called back through his headset. "He said he'll give us Kylo Ren!"

Poe and Nien exchanged an excited look. Having Ren's location meant saving time trying to find Ducain. It meant finding R2D2 that much sooner, reducing the time the First Order had to discover what he carried. And it meant taking the fight directly to Ren.

His feet had just hit the ground when Wexley was telling him to go find General Organa and tell her the good news. Poe didn't even bother pointing out who was in charge; this news was too promising. And, truth be told, he was rather pleased to be the one to deliver it.

Wexley and Nunb headed for the cells as Poe ran through the base with BB-8 on his heels, heading straight for Leia's personal office. In his excitement, he neglected to knock, throwing open the door and stopping dead at the disconcerting image of General Organa in tears at the holoprojector table, Luke Skywalker standing beside her with his arms around her shoulders. BB-8 collided with Poe's legs and trilled in irritation.

If he could have, Poe would have vanished through the floor.

Before he could retreat, the general straightened, swiping quickly at her face before speaking to the wall. "What is it, Commander?"

Poe drew a deep breath. "General Hux has offered to lead us to Kylo Ren."

Luke and Leia shared a look similar to the one he'd shared with Nien, only with far more meaning. And far more caution.

Leading the way to the cells, Poe arrived to find Nunb and Wexley guarding the door, the latter glaring at Captain Phasma standing impassively nearby. Poe knelt and told BB-8 to wait outside, while Leia turned to her brother and said in a voice too soft for the others to hear, "I'll take care of this. You go find Rey."

Luke hesitated, in no hurry to release that burden.

Leia squeezed his hand. "Secrets feed the Darkness, Luke."

He knew she was right, of course. With reluctance, he nodded. Leia turned back to Poe and signaled for him to open the door.

General Hux rose as Leia and Poe entered, gray uniform freshly laundered, orange hair styled as well as he could with one arm in a sling. His haughty countenance was somewhat undermined by his seedy surroundings.

"General Organa," he said, as if receiving her in his private billet. They had never met before, but the badge on Leia's uniform was unmistakable.

"General Hux," she replied with as much respect as she could muster. "You have information to share?"

His pale cheeks tightened into something of a smile. "Kylo Ren," he announced. "In exchange for my freedom, of course."

Leia studied the man for a long minute. "Why?"

Hux worked to disguise his amusement. His competition with Ren was at last coming to an end, and it was the Resistance, if he could believe it, which would eliminate his adversary for him. "He's become a...liability. Obsessed with a person and a matter which holds interest only to him. To be quite honest," he concluded, "you'll be doing me a favor."

The truth of his words was evident; there was no loyalty between the former allies. Still, Leia proceeded with caution. For the next few minutes, the two generals negotiated the conditions of Hux's release. He would be flown off D'Qar by two of Leia's officers – Hux only wanted one, Leia three, – at which point he would radio back with Kylo Ren's exact location near Domandari.

Leia had the walk back to her office to give her time to think. At her door she turned briefly to Commander Dameron and asked that he keep the two-seater Togulev on standby. She still wanted to send a mission after Gannis Ducain as insurance, but remained hesitant to diminish the fleet any further. Admiral Statura's resource reports had only grown more dire of late. Quite frankly, she didn't know how much longer their systems could last.

She stepped inside her office, but not alone. Captain Phasma followed, uninvited. She closed the door with a decisive snap. "Releasing Hux is a dangerous idea."

The wild emotions of the day did little to help the general keep her composure. "Retrieving Artoo-Detoo is our most critical task. Our pilots will see to it that Hux does not reach his destination without giving us what we need."

The captain crossed her arms. "He cannot be trusted."

"There are many who cannot be trusted!" Leia retorted, patience gone.

For a long moment, neither woman spoke. Eventually, the general turned away and pressed her palms flat against the holo-table. Phasma watched her trying to calm herself. "You suspect a spy in the Resistance."

Leia laughed shortly. Pretty astute for an officer whose own stormtrooper stole a valuable captive, then ran away. She turned back around. "We've carefully vetted our team. But every moment Artoo is in the hands of the First Order is a moment we risk losing this war for good."

Phasma studied her intently. "The information is that important?"

With a heavy sigh, Leia nodded.

Phasma hesitated only briefly, then, to Leia's surprise, demanded nothing further before agreeing to support Hux's release. Turning for the door, she was stopped by a question.

"Do _you_ suspect a spy in the Resistance?"

The captain looked over her shoulder. She didn't suspect, she _knew._ "How else did we know your pilot was on Jakku?" she answered.

Of course, Leia knew there was spy as well. How else had Hux known they were specifically looking for Ben?

* * *

Leia was only alone for a few minutes, a brief respite in which to order her warring thoughts when the door burst open yet again, the intruder entering without knocking. Again.

Finn came to a stop in front of the general's desk and said angrily, "You cannot _seriously_ be thinking of letting Hux go!"

Leia lifted her head and looked at him with a stony stare.

Finn swallowed. "Ma'am," he added with a mumble.

She leaned back in her seat, frowning. She'd been led to believe discipline was paramount in First Order personnel. "It is decided, Finn. The transport leaves shortly."

"We're talking about the commander of Starkiller Base!" Finn argued back. "Who killed countless people in the Hosnian system with a weapon _he_ designed. The complete destruction of the _Senate!"_ His heart was racing with the fervor of what he was saying; first Phasma and now _this?_ He was still talking about the New Republic, the First Order, and Hux's specific atrocities when Leia stood, walked around him and shut the door, effectively stopping his speech.

And then she told him what data R2D2 possessed.

As she spoke, Finn felt the blood drain from his face. Doubt flooded him, but this was not something anyone would exaggerate, let alone the leader of the Resistance. Finn's knees gave and he sank into a chair, hardly able to believe what the general was telling him.

When she was done, Finn took a moment to shake his head, as if that might settle the facts in a way that made sense. At last, finding his voice again, Finn nodded and stood.

"You have my support, general," he said firmly. "Let me know how I can help."

"Show me that my trust is well placed." Leia opened the door and stepped back. "Tell no one what you've learned here."


	19. Chapter XIX

General Hux could not believe his luck. He'd worked so hard, for so long. On the Starkiller weapon, on tracking Skywalker, on establishing a viable base on Domandari. Obtaining and training the next generation of stormtroopers, single-handedly containing the Resistance… So many years spent trying to distinguish himself to the Supreme Leader, in direct competition with that enigmatic bastard Kylo Ren, and now this. _This_ is what Hux deserved. What he was owed. As the son of a former Imperial commander, the prestige that heritage merited was long overdue. And now, at last, Snoke would not be able to deny Hux's value when he returned, having successfully freed himself of the enemy, at the exact moment of Ren's disastrous failure.

Hux settled back on his cot and smiled. Who would have known being taken captive would prove so very useful?

The sound of approaching footsteps brought him to his feet. The door opened and Captain Phasma, of all people, appeared.

Hux scowled. "Traitorous scum. Have you come to finish me?" he asked, giving voice to a concern which had plagued him since he'd discovered her true allegiance.

She let the door close quietly, her icy gaze narrowed. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to, every time I was forced to stand there, listening to your grandiose, hedonistic speeches." Raising an imaginary blaster, she took her aim and fired. "Right in the back. Like you always do to _your_ victims." Dropping the invisible weapon, she crossed her arms. "If I could refrain then, I can refrain now."

Hux smiled tauntingly. If she wasn't here to kill him, even Phasma's ineffective insults couldn't disrupt his sense of good fortune. "Then why are you here?"

She glanced toward the door. "I have a message for Kylo Ren." Gaze hardening, she dropped her voice. "And you're going to deliver it for me."

* * *

The Togulev 1500-L's battered cargo door popped open with a shush, then a slim figure wiggled out.

Rey dropped to the ground in a crouch, glancing around to ensure she hadn't been seen. Of course her luck held in that regard; no one had seen her slip on board, and now no one noticed her exit. But her luck didn't extend to actually getting _off_ D'Qar. It didn't appear as though Poe or the other pilot were returning to the ship anytime soon.

Face etched with disappointment, she straightened and stretched. So much for finding Ducain first. Still, she stayed by the two-seater, in case they should return. They insisted on keeping the smuggler's location a secret, so they didn't leave her much choice. How else would she find what she needed?

But was she just fooling herself? Could she really do this? Could she go against the Resistance, against Leia and Luke and Chewie and Finn and hunt down Kylo Ren by herself?

What would Han have done? He wouldn't have waited for permission, that was for sure. She'd only known the man for a short time, but she was certain what his advice would be. Of course, their acquaintance had only been so short because of _Kylo Ren_. Devrun's murderer just kept stealing from her at every turn.

A heaviness settled over her as she looked around, at the pilots, maintenance crew and droids tirelessly working to keep the Resistance alive. She respected what they were doing, and prayed that the Force would be with them every step of the way, but she did not belong here. This was not her home. Her home had been lost to her the day Dev died.

Luke Skywalker appeared at the base entrance, looking for someone or something. Finn was walking across the airfield, deep in thought, and beyond him, from the direction of the prisoner cells, a small group appeared, headed for the small personnel transporter standing at the edge of the field.

Poe Dameron was imparting last-minute instructions to Snap Wexley and Nien Nunb. A half-head taller than the other humans and a half-body taller than the Sullustan, General Hux followed with his usual confident self-possession, despite his hands being bound inside his sling and armed guards at his sides.

At the base of the transporter, Poe shook the pilots' hands, then stepped back to allow Hux room to pass. The general paused for only a moment at the door with a cold look at Captain Phasma, who stared back at him with an inscrutable gaze.

Across the airstrip, Rey had frozen in place.

The door to the transport ship slid shut, but she could still see that sandy orange hair. The tall, proud countenance. The pale, stoic face.

Rey felt all the air in her lungs escape at once, wrapped around one name.

"Dev?"


	20. Chapter XX

In the time it took her brain to comprehend what she'd seen, the transport ship had left the ground, rising smoothly off the earth.

Dev was leaving.

Rey started running. Her boots made quick work of the grassy airfield. "Finn! Help me!" she shouted as she tore past him, en route to the lopsided shuttle. "We need to stop that ship!"

Finn followed her gesture to the transporter skimming the trees. He turned back to see Rey vanishing inside the shuttle, then began running too. "Poe! Hurry! We need to stop that ship!"

Poe stopped and spun around, looking where Finn was pointing to watch it cut through the clouds. "You need to stop that ship?"

Finn stormed aboard the shuttle. "Why exactly do we need to stop that ship?"

"My brother's on board!" Rey primed the propulsion modules. "We can't let them return him to the First Order!"

"Your brother?" Finn asked, climbing awkwardly up the inclined floor to drop into the seat beside – and at this angle, slightly above – her. "But I thought... How many brothers do you have?"

"One." She engaged the wings and activated the flight stabilizers with one hand, all while buckling herself in with the other.

In contrast, Finn was moving more and more slowly, as he thought about what Rey said. "Are you saying...General Hux...is your brother? That makes you..."

"Rey Hux," she said, flipping switches and controls even faster.

Finn sat back. Suddenly the ship he was in was not the only thing unbalanced. "Whoa."

"What?" Rey demanded.

Finn shrugged. "Well... It's just General Hux is..." He paused, unsure how to tell her about the barbarity he'd witnessed at the hands of the general. The threats, the deaths, the fact that the destruction of the entire Hosnian Prime was surely done on his order. "...not a very nice guy."

"I'm certain there's an explanation," Rey snapped, stretching across him to smack the switch that closed the entry ramp, since he hadn't.

The overwhelming doubt remained on Finn's face. Rey ignored it as she gripped the flight controls and waited impatiently for the shuttle to finish powering up.

* * *

Somehow, the girl got the damaged shuttle, which no one else had been able to fly, to fly.

Phasma watched the craft right itself as it lifted off the ground. She was still standing by the transport carrier's empty landing site, but she'd heard Rey's pleas to FN-2187.

And she could not let them stop her message to Kylo.

Turning toward the base, Phasma shouted, "Dameron!"

Hands pressed to his ears, Poe tore his confused gaze from the rising shuttle and looked over.

"Stop them from interfering!"

The Resistance commander lowered his headset and glared. "I don't take orders from you, Captain."

At that moment, however, General Organa marched out of the base, pointing after the disappearing transport ship. "They've turned off their comms."

He shook his head. "I can't reach them either."

"Stop them, Commander. Now!"

"Yes, General." Poe tossed the headset back to a tech, shouted for BB-8, then ran for the nearest ship ready for flight – the Togulev 1500-L. It was old and clunky, but his own _Black One_ X-Wing would take too long to prep, and if the transporter had indeed shut off its comms, he doubted it could be tracked for much longer.

Poe slapped on the helmet he'd left behind barely an hour before, and dropped into the pilot's seat. Below, BB-8 zipped through the open cargo door and braced for lift-off.

Just before the cockpit compartment sealed shut, Captain Phasma jumped in.

Poe spun around in his seat. "Hey!"

She slipped the co-pilot's helmet over her short hair. "Get this can moving!"

General Organa was watching impatiently from the base entrance, and Finn and Rey's shuttle was barely discernable against the darkening sky. What did they know about the transporter that he didn't?

Arguing would have to wait.

Securing the cargo hold, Poe began engaging the ground propulsion boosters. "Hang on," he muttered, extending the Togulev's squat wings. "This is going to get interesting."

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Surprised? Intrigued? What do you think so far? Let me know in the comments box! You keep reading and I'll keep writing…**


	21. Chapter XXI

The darkness of space swallowed them whole. It was already approaching dusk on D'Qar, but the suddenness of night was still breathtaking. Instantly, the sleek black shuttle was merely a shadow in an infinite void, and its impressive onboard technology would keep it that way. The transporter ship with Wexley, Nunb and General Hux, a speck in the distance nearly indiscernible from a star, was decades behind the First Order ship and would have no awareness it was being tracked.

Rey entered the appropriate command to keep the shuttle following its designated target, then turned to Finn and immediately began pestering him with questions. Questions about her brother, how he'd come to join the First Order, what he did for Snoke, what sort of person he was. Did he know about Rey? Had he ever mentioned Jakku? Or their mother? But all Finn could really recall about the man was the times Finn had stood in formation among a sea of his fellow stormtroopers and watched General Hux give clamoring speeches, raging about the chaos of the galaxy and the downfall of the Empire and how the First Order would restore complacency. How total control was no less than the First Order deserved for all its hard work fighting the Resistance, and how the galaxy would thank them all in the end for their benevolence. How the Order would make the galaxy great again.

He sounded like a right lunatic, in retrospect.

"What's he like?"

"I didn't really know him," Finn replied edgily. The closest he'd personally ever gotten to the general was when he'd shot him. But he doubted she wanted to hear about that. Or about how much he'd enjoyed it.

"You rode with him back from Domandari, didn't you? What's he like?" Rey asked again.

She sounded so desperate for details. What was the nicest possible thing he could say about the sadistic narcissist responsible for countless murders? Finn thought for a minute. "He snores."

She gave him a weird look. Fortunately, he didn't have to elaborate because at that moment sirens began blaring and lights on the control board flashed. Rey tapped a screen, bewildered. "We're being tracked!"

They shared an alarmed look, then Finn was unbuckled and on his feet, headed for weapons' command. "Who could possibly know about us?" Even if the transporter were aware of their presence, – doubtful with its outdated capabilities – how could Wexley or Nunb have arranged a response so quickly? And, more importantly, why?

No, it had to be the First Order. Somehow, despite Rey's efforts, they'd managed to track Kylo Ren's ship. And if they'd found them here, there was nothing stopping them from finding D'Qar.

They'd have to fight. And win. Or D'Qar would fall.

"What's still working on this thing?" Rey called, her mind racing through their options. How could she perform evasive moves without jumping into lightspeed and losing the trace on her brother?

Finn ran a quick diagnostic, trying to think past the wailing alarms. The response came back quickly; if a ship could complain about the way it had been treated, this command shuttle was throwing a proper tantrum. "Not much," Finn shouted back. "A pair of laser cannons. Some solar beam projectors. What happened to the side of this thing, anyway?"

At that moment the defense warnings reached a crescendo and a rusty orange cube buzzed past the cockpit, appearing momentarily in Rey's view before falling behind once more. She stared after it with wide eyes. "Was that a _cargo jumper?_ "

Finn dashed to the window. He only caught a glimpse of the ship, but that was all he needed to know who was piloting it. "Check the comms!"

Rey checked. Sure enough, the indicator was blinking frantically. It was likely beeping as well, but the shuttle's defense signals were too loud to hear it. She began flipping switches, ordering it to stop, but the alarms wailed on.

Finn was facing his own predicament. As if overcompensating for its recent lack of use, the ill-tempered weapons module was preparing to attack Poe's ship. Finn punched the termination key, but not before one laser cannon ignited, sending a streak of fire straight for the Togulev 1500-L. The force of the shot was enough to throw Rey against her harness and knock Finn clear off his feet.

Apparently satisfied, the weapons system powered down.

The ensuing silence was so complete, Finn momentarily wondered if he'd stuck his head and lost his hearing. Then he felt the air leave his lungs as he realized what it meant.

The ship was no longer warning of a pursuer.

No… He scrambled up and dashed for the window. There was no sign of the cargo jumper.

"Rey?" he shouted, running for the cockpit. She activated the external comms just as he arrived and for a breathless moment there was only static. Finn sank into his seat. Then the room was filled with the unmistakable sound of Poe Dameron cursing and BB-8's shrill indignation.

 _"-the hell do they think they're doing?"_

The shuttle's occupants started laughing with relief. "Poe!" Finn shouted, over the pilot's continued ranting. "Can you hear me?"

"Finn?" he snapped. "Prepare the maintenance dock, because I'm about to come over there and kick-"

"Commander." General Organa's voice made everyone pause. "You've made contact with the transport ship?"

You could practically hear Poe sit up straight. "No, General. Their comms have been deactivated from someone on board. We've made contact with Rey and Finn."

"Ah," she replied. "At some point, someone will tell me why they left D'Qar?"

Rey and Finn shared a look. Rey had no idea how the general would take the news of her newfound connection to Hux, so she said nothing.

There was a minute of silence, and then Leia returned. "There's an opportunity here. With that shuttle, you should be able to land at any First Order base without undue difficulty. Get on board and contact me again when you've established a plan. Explanations can wait. Bring back Artoo."

Poe confirmed and terminated the link. Carefully, and with constant communication between him and Rey, the Togulev 1500-L inched closer, gradually, until it came to rest on top of the command shuttle like the galaxy's ugliest hat.

Finn was waiting below the maintenance access when he heard Poe knock. Releasing the locks, he stood back as the portal hissed, expelling atmosphere, then slid open. Poe Dameron dropped through, stood and straightened his shirt. He gave Finn a stern frown.

"Sorry about almost killing you," Finn said.

Poe glared a moment more, then arched an eyebrow and shrugged. "Hasn't been a day since knowing you that someone hasn't tried."

Boots appeared behind the commander, then legs. Finn had assumed he'd been alone aboard the cargo ship, and was further surprised by who dropped down a second later.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?" he demanded.

"Better question," Phasma replied coolly as BB-8 rappelled slowly down a cable behind her, "is what the hell _you're_ both doing here. Why are you pursuing Hux?"

"Would like to know that myself," Poe added, crossing his arms and looking past Finn to where Rey had appeared in the cockpit doorway.

She swallowed, and for a moment she and Finn exchanged a look. But there wasn't any way to avoid the truth. No other explanation would make sense.

Not that the truth made much sense to her at the moment either.

With a deep breath to steel herself, Rey confessed. "General Hux, it turns out, is my brother."


	22. Chapter XXII

Captain Phasma stared at Rey, her look one of shrewd doubt. Poe shifted a half-step forward, head cocked sideways at Rey as if he hadn't quite heard her declaration. "Hux is your...brother?"

Rey frowned, anticipating the uncomfortable questions to follow. She nodded shortly.

For another moment, no one spoke. Then Poe blinked and, to everyone's surprise, started laughing. Short, baffled laughs becoming harder, mirthful ones until he was clutching at his ribs.

Rey scowled harder. Finn continued to study Phasma, trying to read her reaction.

"Well," Poe said at last, wiping his eyes when he'd managed to contain his amusement. "I was certainly not expecting _that._ "

Phasma, unsurprisingly, wasn't laughing. "What do you mean, he's your brother?" she demanded. "When did you discover this?"

"Today," Rey said quickly, actually grateful for the chance to make that clear. "Just when I saw him boarding the ship."

Phasma fell silent. Her calculating look suggested she was trying to find a way to work this new information in her favor. Unable to stand the silence, Rey found herself telling the story of her father, vanishing from Jakku when she was too young to remember, and her mother raising both her and Devrun alone, until they were visited by Luke Skywalker, with an offer to train Devrun at his Jedi academy.

Phasma squinted with suspicion at this. "Hux has no ability with the Force. That's the main reason he and Kylo despise each other."

Rey shrugged. She honestly couldn't explain why Luke Skywalker had chosen Devrun. He'd certainly never explained it to _her._

Poe had listened curiously, nodding on occasion when something Rey said matched what the Resistance had learned about the First Order general. Finn, on the other hand, had grown more taciturn as Rey talked. She realized he wasn't quite meeting her gaze anymore.

Before she could ask, there was a frantic beeping from the cockpit, and both she and Poe raced over to find the comms light blinking. Activating the speaker, Poe greeted General Organa, apologized for the delay and began explaining the situation when Rey nudged him aside and demanded to speak with Luke.

There was a tense silence on the comms, during which she imagined Leia looking affronted by the scavenger's demand, so despite her desire to hear it, the next voice took her by surprise.

"Rey," Luke Skywalker sighed, a lonely word carrying the weight of apology, understanding, misery.

Rey shook her head, blinking hard against the threatening tears. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, hating her voice for quivering.

Back on D'Qar, Luke's shoulders sagged. His head dropped as he relived in an instant the years with Devrun Hux at the academy. As he felt again the shame of having misread the boy's ability.

Rey's voice cut in, sharp with renewed anger. "Why didn't you _tell me?_ "

"Believe me," Luke said at last with a sigh, "when I say I know exactly how you feel."

* * *

Poe Dameron completed his communication with General Organa, confirmed again that the ship was still tracking the transport carrier, then ended the link.

Alone in the cockpit, the commander sank into the pilot's seat and stared ahead, in the general direction of Wexley's ship.

The locator and transponder systems were still deactivated. That could only be done manually, with intent, by someone who knew how.

As awful as it was, Poe wanted badly to believe Wexley and Nunb had somehow been overpowered by Hux, forced to comply with the general's demands. But deep down he knew it wasn't true. Now that he was alone with his thoughts, Poe had to accept what his instincts were telling him. What he'd suspected from the moment he'd left D'Qar.

"Ah, Wex..." he sighed.

He recalled how forcefully Snap Wexley had argued to be a part of the trip to find Gannis Ducain. Having failed, he must have run to Hux, revealed his true allegiance, and explained that the Resistance was on track to finding Kylo Ren, the last member of Supreme Leader Snoke's high command.

He'd questioned Poe's trust in Finn, on the very transport carrier they were now pursuing. He'd tried to destroy Rey and Luke when they were landing at the base, knowing Kylo Ren would never have come alone. He'd had Poe tell Leia that Hux would talk, knowing something that important wouldn't be questioned coming from Poe.

Wexley had _used_ him.

Poe seized a headset and threw it as hard as he could against the wall, then crossed an arm over his chest and pressed a fist to his mouth, desperate to contain the anger. Anger solved nothing. Poe Dameron would not surrender to the darkness within himself.

Wexley didn't know about their quest for R2-D2, but Wexley's own knowledge of D'Qar, of the Resistance's resources, personnel, capabilities... If that information were divulged, it wouldn't matter if they recovered the droid. The Resistance would be ruined.

Too far away to see, Wexley and Hux had no idea they were being followed, never believing the Resistance would have discovered their radio silence so quickly, or that it could have been able to mount a pursuit in time, even if it had become aware of the deception. This advanced First Order shuttle could track ships that didn't want to be tracked, and do it without their knowledge.

Poe Dameron would find Snap Wexley wherever he landed.


	23. Chapter XXIII

Rey was holed up in a small chamber off the shuttle's main bay, some sort of private worship room with a low bench and austere walls. She hardly noticed her surroundings; she'd just been desperate to get away, having stormed away from Luke's explanations mid-sentence. His very voice made her heart ache, all the words he could have- _should_ have said to her on Ahch-To when she'd asked about her brother. _Your brother was lost,_ he'd said. An artfully told lie. Nothing but lies, lies of omission, lies of self-preservation. The darkness in her stirred briefly, but even it was eclipsed at that moment by the overwhelming sorrow threatening to drown her.

Truth was, blaming Luke was far easier than accepting the alternative. To accept the narrative that her brother had knowingly abandoned her was too much to bear.

She'd been such a fool. Such a sad, stupid fool. All those days she'd counted, all those years spent waiting, hoping. Only recently she'd come to believe Devrun had died, but now she knew what she'd been promised had in fact been dead the whole time. Dev hadn't thought of her, he hadn't come back for her. S _oon, Rey. Very soon we'll be back._

More lies.

Rey groped blindly for the hem of her tunic to wipe her flooded eyes, and her hand knocked against something resting at the back of the bench. She looked down and gave a small gasp.

Kylo Ren's mask stared back at her.

The black helmet was sitting in the shadows, as if it had only moments ago been set aside and was waiting patiently for its owner to return. Silent and still, it nonetheless exuded menace, an imposing piece of battle gear, designed to intimidate any unfortunate enough to face it.

With unsteady hands, Rey picked it up.

It was heavier than she'd expected, and she realized it was almost solid metal. There were scars in places, where the helmet had seen battle, but those signs of vulnerability were disturbingly uncommon. It looked indestructible. Unimpressed with its present possessor, the dark eye slit gazed up at her. Challenging her.

She put it on.

It sank easily over her hair; the helmet was much too large, but somehow it fit comfortably. As if it had been made with her in mind. The sounds of the ship vanished; Rey was cocooned in silence. Solitude. She opened her eyes to look out and saw everything was now tinted a dreary gray. The mask seemed to have leeched all color from the world.

But suddenly Rey felt _powerful_. The darkness in her stirred. She _liked_ this feeling. Speaking briefly, she heard her own voice amplified, commanding in the small room, intimidating. This was the voice of someone others obeyed. The sound sent a shiver through her.

The blast door opened and Finn froze where he stood. Rey spun, ripping the helmet off. She turned to look at him, feeling guilty, caught. He stared back with a disturbed look.

"I just..." Rey stuttered. "It was just..." Explanations failed her.

Words likewise seemed to be failing Finn. He appeared ready to walk out when he noticed the streaks down Rey's cheeks, the redness of her eyes. Instinctively, he took a step toward her. "Are you okay?"

She swiped at her face. "Just thinking about Devrun."

He wasn't able to conceal a flicker of annoyance. With a noncommittal shrug, he'd turned to go when Rey leaped up and caught his arm. "What's wrong, Finn?" she asked, prepared to plea if he didn't answer. Rey knew he was the only person she could truly talk to anymore. The only person who might understand the way she felt. But she desperately wanted to understand him, too.

"Please tell me."

Finn finally met her gaze. "I'm sorry," he said shortly. "To you, he's your brother. But to me..."

"What?"

He looked away and shook his head. "To me he's the reason I don't have a home."

Rey dropped her hand. That wasn't at all what she'd expected him to say. "What do you mean?"

Finn glanced at her with a flash of anger, as if he thought she was playing dumb. "What do you think, Rey? That I voluntarily joined the First Order, then changed my mind?" He barely gave her a moment to respond. "They _took_ me," he spat. "They took all of us, as babies, from our homes, from our families. They brainwashed us, indoctrinated us, then put us on the battlefield to _die_."

Rey took a step back, her heart growing tight in her chest. There wasn't enough air in the room.

Finn wasn't done. "Your brother's stormtrooper program uses _children,_ Rey. He didn't start the program, but he could have ended it. He had that choice. Instead he expanded it, stealing _more_ children, ruining _more_ lives!"

"I'm sure there's an explanation..." Rey protested weakly, shaking her head.

Finn scoffed with disgust. "That's great. You defending Hux, Phasma defending Ren. I have no home because of men like them! I don't know who I am, I don't know where I'm from!"

"When we were children, he was kind," Rey insisted, trying to make him see Devrun like she did. "He comforted me when my mother would not. He-"

"I don't know if I _have_ any brothers, thanks to General Hux. I don't know where _my_ mother even is! And there are thousands of troopers with stories like mine. Lost, just like me."

They fell silent, avoiding each other's eyes, yet painfully aware of the other's slightest movement; Rey's softest sniffle, Finn's clenched jaw. Gradually, the anger dissipated.

At last, Finn shook his head. "I'm sorry you're sad," he said quietly. "But you're not the only person your brother's hurt."

With that, he walked out.

Her only friend was abandoning her. "Finn-" Rey rushed forward, sweeping around the corner and nearly running into Phasma, whose icy gaze was following Finn's back. Her eyes flicked back to Rey.

She'd been eavesdropping, and clearly didn't care that Rey knew. Rey glared at her, hating her arrogant face, wishing she could lash out. But something stopped her. Phasma looked different somehow. Without her chrome armor, she looked smaller. More civilian than warrior. Here was a woman who cared about someone everyone else hated.

The realization dawned that this was perhaps the one person who could answer a question which had been plaguing Rey all day.

She bit back her pride and asked. "Is it possible..." she began, then swallowed and tried again. "Is there any chance at all...that Devrun is on both sides? Like you?"

Phasma arched an eyebrow and scanned her face, considering her briefly. For a second Rey could swear she saw something like pity in the captain's eyes.

"None," she said in a voice that left absolutely no room for doubt.


	24. Chapter XXIV

The formerly unoccupied base on Reth-hem now teemed with stormtroopers and support personnel, preparing for an offensive assault. Most had been displaced by the destruction of nearby Domandari base, and were eager to provide a response to that attack. In the hangar, the _Millennium Falcon_ was now dwarfed by two Star Destroyers, a dozen Heavy Cruisers and countless TIE Fighters. Technicians were preparing the fleet, and soldiers were receiving final orders.

Among the advanced armada and weaponry, one battered Resistance transport carrier looked downright pathetic.

All First Order personnel had an assignment, and all were hard at work. Yet any who found himself on the upper catwalk at the edge of the hangar outside the officer's quarters, quickly scurried away from the skin-crawling sounds of agony and torture from within.

In the otherwise empty room, the restraint plastron was just lowering to the ground, its sweaty and blood-stained occupant shaking.

Kylo Ren readjusted his black glove at the wrist. "All that time with the Resistance. And you truly didn't learn anything useful."

General Hux shot him a murderous glare. _"That's what I said,"_ he rasped through clenched teeth.

The platform stopped at a slight tilt. With a casual flick, Kylo unlatched the platform's half-dozen restraints, causing Hux to fall the remaining distance and stumble. Without even a trace of apology, Kylo said, "Minds often remember more than we realize."

Hux straightened and scowled. "You and your Dark powers can go to hell."

Snap Wexley stood in the corner, trying desperately not to lose the contents of his stomach. Having waged a furious debate in his mind between speaking up and blending into the wall, he decided. "The girl is there," he said quickly, anxious to answer the question Hux had not been able to. "She arrived on D'Qar with Chewbacca and Skywalker. She arrived in..." He paused, realizing too late the insult he was giving, but once he'd started, he couldn't very well not finish. Ren turned toward him slowly. "Your ship," Wexley finished weakly.

"The _girl,_ " Hux scoffed. "This mysterious obsession will prove your undoing, Ren."

Kylo ignored him as he eyed Wexley. "You saw her?"

Wexley glanced at Hux, but the general was busy wiping the blood from his mouth and vainly smoothing his hair. He looked back at Ren. And nodded. "We spoke briefly at the command cen-"

One black glove came up and Wexley was instantly paralyzed, his face a mask of pain, as Ren tore through his memories, seeking every instance of Rey. There was Rey at a table, gazing up at the completed map which led to Luke Skywalker. At a meeting, asking Phasma why she hadn't killed Kylo. Rey again, landing _his_ ship at a Resistance base. Landing his ship, and then running directly into the ready arms of...that stormtrooper.

FN-2187.

Kylo's scarred face contorted, and he took a step toward Wexley as he readjusted the nature of his probe. Every memory the Resistance captain had of the former stormtrooper played for Kylo like a holograph. A traitor's view of a traitor.

FN-2187 returning from Starkiller base, being carried off the _Millennium Falcon_ to a waiting medical transport, grievously wounded. FN-2187 healed, joining the team headed for Domandari. On the transport carrier, fielding Wexley's suspicious questions about his past. Escaping the planet, covered in red dirt, joined by an unconscious Hux and an unmasked Captain Phasma-

Kylo ripped back from Wexley's mind with unnecessary force. The man crumpled as if his skeleton had dissolved on the spot.

Fists clenched, Kylo ignored the gaping Hux and marched to the window overlooking the hangar floor.

 _Finn._ That's what the deserter now called himself. He'd adopted a new name, shed his old identity as easily as he'd shed his uniform, his loyalties. Ren had cast off his own name once, but his allegiance remained the same; to discipline, to power, to the Dark teachings. The traitor enraged him, yet his actions could not be ignored. He had betrayed the First Order, overthrown his old life and dismissed all his instruction. Why?

It was only a moment's meditation before Kylo knew the answer. Despite his betrayal, the stormtrooper had exhibited a shocking amount of devotion to the Resistance. Instead of fleeing for the Unknown Reaches, something made him fight with those he'd been indoctrinated to hate. Against those he'd been raised to defend.

This Finn had found something or someone he was willing to fight for. To die for.

Below, workers crawled over the base, scuttling like bugs. Kylo scowled at their brainless laboring. Only yesterday he'd been alone on Reth-hem. It was irony itself that he needed Hux's stormtroopers in order to finish their replacements.

Eventually, Kylo turned back to Wexley, who was only just sitting up. "You will tell me everything you know about the Resistance." He looked at Hux, who actually flinched. "Prepare your troops for an immediate attack on D'Qar."

The general's nostrils flared, and he glared at Ren. "I will organize my soldiers as _I_ deem necessary." He gestured dispassionately at the man on the floor. "You focus on getting me any information I'll need."

Hux walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. Hesitating for only a moment, he asked, "And about what Phasma had to say?"

Kylo didn't turn around. "It was already known to me."

"But the part about-"

"Nothing from a traitor can be believed unless obtained in a..." He studied Wexley. "...direct manner."

The captain cowered, looking ill.

General Hux started to argue, then decided against it. With one last loathsome glare at the other man's back, he walked out, head high lest any of his staff see him appear unsteady.

The door slid shut, the resulting click echoing in the desolate room. For a long minute, there was only silence.

"I'll tell you," Wexley whispered pitifully, one hand coming up. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Kylo Ren took a step toward the captain. "Yes, you will."

The pair of stormtroopers standing guard at the door, both highly skilled and heavily armed, couldn't help but cringe when the torturous screams inside renewed.


	25. Chapter XXV

"Charts indicate its name is Reth-hem," Poe Dameron read, reporting back to D'Qar on the battered comms. Something about the weather on the desolate planet was disturbing the connection, even with the advanced system of Kylo Ren's ship. "It's an unsettled planet, in the Neutral Territories."

"Defenses?" came Admiral Statura's choppy reply.

"None," Poe said definitively. "Scans show only the two structures, and neither appears to be under heavy guard. They're not expecting combat at this location."

Statura's pleasure was evident, despite the poor reception. "Good news, Commander."

Poe nodded. They'd landed without incident, as General Organa had predicted. The shuttle's cloaking technology was impressive. They'd seen two structures, the second easily ten times the size of the first, but the first was by no means inconsequential. Phasma had explained that one was a hangar and one a factory. She claimed not to know what was inside.

Besides these, there were only the wind turbines, thousands of them stretching into the distance, spinning madly, powering the two buildings. Seas of wind turbines. What two buildings would require that much energy?

Poe had shared his distrust of Snap Wexley, of Nien Nunb's likely fate, and the mood on D'Qar was somber. There was no doubt, if Dameron's suspicions were correct, that D'Qar would be facing the might of the First Order very soon. An organized evacuation of Rebel Base was currently underway.

General Organa was understandably distracted. "We'll get you air support as soon as possible," she promised, but Poe wasn't expecting anything any time soon. In the meantime, he was determined to see inside that factory. Though no one at Central Command had put it into words, everyone suspected its contents were of vital importance.

"Commander," Leia said before Poe could end the transmission, "remember the main mission – to retrieve Artoo. Bring him home." She paused for a moment, then spoke in a voice overcome with emotion. "But if you have to..." It broke her heart to say it, but she had to. She just had to. "If you cannot recover him and there's no other choice...destroy Artoo-Deetoo."

* * *

The others were preparing for departure by the disembarkment ramp. The ship had an almost embarrassing store of weapons, and everyone was struggling with the tough decision of what to bring and what to leave behind. BB-8 had space in only one of his tool bays and on the floor in front of him lay a miniature metal saw and a flame shooter. His head swiveled back and forth between the two as if trying to decide. Metal saw, flame shooter. Metal saw, flame shooter.

For some reason, Rey and Finn were actively avoiding each other. The former seemed sad, and the latter seemed angry. Poe sighed. The last thing they needed on this endeavor was discontentment. Leia's last request of him disturbed him more than he'd like to admit. He knew she felt about R2D2 the same way he felt about BB-8. The information R2 contained must truly be crucial for her to make such an order.

Rey ran her hand between two panels along the wall, then suddenly seized a bar there, planted her foot on the panel and ripped it from the wall. The metal screeched, then gave. For the first time in a while, a small smile graced her face. The others had opted for blasters and ordnance, but as Rey hefted the metal bar, testing its balance, she couldn't have been more satisfied. She finally had a staff again.

Everyone had looked up at the noise, but no one objected. The shuttle was likely damaged beyond repair as it was. And as they readied to leave, for some reason, their preparations had the feeling of finality. No one said it, but no one believed they'd be back.

From a small side compartment in the wall, Phasma withdrew goggles and tossed everyone a pair before securing her own in place. They were wide, wrapping around the nose and face, and of a solid, indestructible material. Everyone but Finn put theirs on, too.

"What's this for?" he demanded, instinctively suspicious of anything to do with Phasma. Rey and Poe looked at her too, but she only stared at Finn, as she clipped her rifle harness to her vest.

He crossed his arms, goggles dangling from one hand. "I'm not putting these on until you explain."

Phasma finished securing her weapon, then turned and smacked the release button for the ramp. It lowered slowly but the instant it opened the shuttle was awash in gusting wind, rushing in and swirling inside the ship hard enough to rattle it, sending chairs spinning on their stands, cables whipping through the air. It was suddenly a struggle to breathe. Poe and Rey pressed their goggles harder against their faces, bracing their feet to keep from losing their balance. Finn stumbled back, struggling to secure his mask in place with his skin stinging and eyes burning. In the ship, the wind swirled like a tornado, ripping in every direction, but outside it blew in only one direction – directly toward them from the direction of the towering buildings.

Phasma was already outside, leaning forward as she walked steadily toward the hangar. Realizing this, the others quickly followed, with Finn bringing up the rear. Their boots dug into the sandy soil, each foot planted firmly before the next was lifted. Progress was slow as everyone bent against the wind, struggling for every gain. Poe's longer hair streamed straight back as Phasma's short hair rippled in waves. Miniscule flecks of sand bit at exposed skin, and the air tore at their clothes. At times BB-8's body spun, but he made no progress, flinging dust into the air as he slowly sank, until Rey got behind him and pushed.

At last the wind seemed to die down somewhat, dampened slightly by the building in front of them. Trudging closer, squinting against the onslaught pulling at him, Finn could just make out a door at the base of the wall. Phasma reached it first, and pressed her back to the wall beside it. The others lined up on the opposite side, then Finn slammed against the wall beside Phasma and shouted, half in anger and half just to be heard, "Stop testing me, Phasma! I'm not your subordinate anymore!"

She eyed him dispassionately through her goggles. "Is your enemy more important than your ally, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven?"

She'd said those exact words to him once before. He glared at the reminder of their descent to Jakku, how he'd seemingly been more focused on the planet's inhabitants than his own fellow troops. But his gaze was drawn past Phasma to Rey, pressed against the wall at the other side of the door. His hatred for General Hux had caused a rift between them, a hatred that would distract from the mission, and already had. Would he once again focus more on his enemy than his ally?

Phasma gestured to Poe, using symbols which were like a second language to Finn, having been instructed in them since he was a child. UNGUARDED ENTRANCE, NO ALARM, SECURE DOOR BEHIND.

Poe must have understood enough because he signaled back and pressed the door lock. With a hiss, it popped open. He readied his weapon and nodded at Phasma, who nodded back.

With Poe leading the way, one by one they slipped inside.


	26. Chapter XXVI

Just inside the hangar door was the most fortuitous stack of shipping crates ever placed. The five intruders immediately dropped behind it, peeling masks from wind-whipped faces. Finn slid the door shut, and the ensuing silence was shocking after the deafening roar of the wind outside. Rey paused to catch her breath and allow her ears to acclimatize, then peeked between two crates.

A pair of Star Destroyers, industrial and deadly, filled nearly the building's entire expanse, save for a handful of TIE Fighters and other medium-sized craft Rey couldn't name because none had ever been left in a junkyard on Jakku. Still, the fleet was impressive, though the personnel numbers seemed oddly low. Perhaps only fifty technicians and service droids were rushing about, far fewer than were needed to operate the ships present. And not a stormtrooper in sight.

Before she could ask, however, a warning bell clanged, making her jump. She spun toward the others in alarm. Only Finn noticed, putting a hand on her arm. The others were watching the far wall, and Rey followed their gaze.

The warning bell buzzed again and the wall split in two, separating from the middle as two enormous doors slid apart, inching aside to allow Reth-hem's unrelenting wind inside. The air swirled as the First Order workers ducked, holding helmets and headsets in place, scurrying away from the TIE Fighters powering up all around, the distinctive whine of their engines barely audible over the wind.

One by one, the Fighters rose into the air, and Rey felt her skin grow cold. The stormtroopers she'd expected to find in the hangar weren't absent. They were already onboard the First Order ships.

After the TIE Fighters were the larger crafts, slipping outside, then rocketing toward space. Then the Star Destroyers, ion engines scorching the wall as they burst into life, the roar deafening to those still on the ground. With admirable skill, each Destroyer's team of pilots maneuvered the ships through the hangar doors, out into the night, before following the rest of the fleet toward the sky.

Their absence made the blasting wind seem almost peaceful by comparison.

Rey looked at the others, amazed at their luck. The bulk of their enemy had left only moments after their arrival!

But Poe lowered his hands, worry etched on his face. "They're heading to Rebel Base," he explained. Before Rey could digest that, Poe was pointing at the far end of the hangar. One of only a handful of ships remaining, entry ramp down as if awaiting their arrival, stood the _Millennium Falcon_.

"D'Qar has been warned," Poe assured them. "Our mission remains."

They would split up, he explained. Two would be more likely to reach the _Falcon_ than four, so as the ones who knew the ship best, Finn and Rey would go, while BB-8 provided a distraction. Should they be caught, Poe and Phasma could continue the search for R2D2.

Energized by his new assignment, BB-8 slipped away, and Rey and Finn moved to the far end of the crate wall, crouching as close as they could get to the _Falcon_ while still hidden from view. They waited there as the minutes creeped by, as the hangar doors slid slowly closed, rattling hard against the angry wind. Each felt the need to speak, to share what was on their mind, conscious there wouldn't be another quiet moment to talk again for a while, but they both stayed silent, secretly wishing the other would go first.

Finn had just turned and opened his mouth when the blare of the warning bell sounded again, and they spun to watch the hangar doors creak open once more, only to jolt to a stop a moment later, alarm buzzing. The doors jerked, edging toward one another, then bounced apart, sliding wider. Sirens wailed. Down by the access control box, BB-8 whistled cheerfully to himself, giving the mechanism one last irreparable cut, so glad he'd chosen the metal saw after all.

First Order personnel were in a panic, buffeted by confusion and the whistling wind. No one noticed the pair sneaking out from behind the supply crates and dashing toward a certain Corellian freighter.

Slipping on board, Finn and Rey immediately split up, dashing in separate directions and searching the entire ship. Every storage hold, every smuggler's bay, any space large enough to contain an R2 droid was checked, but when Rey raced back toward the ramp, it was to find Finn returning as well, empty handed.

Her heart sank to the floor. "He's not here."

Finn shook his head.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the fleet technicians fighting with the hangar door. If they were to slip out, now was their chance. Rey knew what would come next; joining the others and then a systematic search of the building. But even Phasma had admitted she didn't know the interior. The size of the hangar, and the mystery of the factory next door, all while avoiding capture, meant it could take days to check everywhere. And that didn't address the fact that it was entirely possible R2D2 just left the planet aboard a First Order ship.

She wouldn't have time for her own mission.

"Get to the others," she said to Finn. "Before the doors get fixed."

He frowned, knowing exactly what she had in mind. "We stick together, Rey."

"I'll meet you later. I promise."

"We need to find Artoo."

She was already shaking her head. "I'm not leaving without my brother."

"Rey, we have no idea where he is! And he won't come willingly even if-"

"You do what you have to do. And I'll do what I have to."

Finn stopped and drew a deep breath. He'd promised never to share what he was about to say, but right then, he knew he had to. "Rey, Luke Skywalker gave Artoo a recorded message for Leia, telling her the secret for locating every soul in the galaxy with the power of the Force, so she could restart the academy without him. _How to find them_ , Rey. Every man, woman and child." He paused for a moment, to let that sink in. "You, Luke, _everyone,_ " he emphasized. "Children, Rey. Innocents."

She knew he was thinking of his own robbed childhood. Just as she immediately thought of her own. If the Dark Side could get to every possible Jedi before they were ever trained... There would be no more Jedi. There would be no more Light Side.

But when Rey looked up, Finn could see the answer in her eyes. "You get Artoo. I'm going to find Devrun. He didn't choose this life, Finn _, I know it_. He'll help us. I just have to talk to him."

Finn caught her hand as she turned. "Rey-" he implored, but she spun back, brought her hand to his cheek and kissed him. It only lasted a moment, barely a breath, but it froze him where he stood. Rey pulled back, meeting his gaze. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. A hundred things came into her mind, but she couldn't seem to say any of them. She dropped her hand.

He still hadn't moved when she left.

* * *

"What's taking so long?" Poe asked for the third time, his eyes on the _Falcon_ 's abandoned ramp. BB-8 had already returned, and the freighter simply wasn't that big.

"Perhaps they were discovered," Phasma replied, sounding completely indifferent to the idea. "Where do we begin our search?"

Poe sat back on his heels, scanning the hangar for a sign, any sign, of a captured droid. Where would he put one? With the hangar doors secure, the remaining techs had converged around the control box, puzzling over its mangled components. At this end of the building were more crates and a disassembled TIE Fighter. On the far end was a catwalk, running below what looked like officer's quarters. He'd just looked away when one door opened, and a familiar figure emerged, accompanied on both sides by a stormtrooper. They weren't guarding the man so much as supporting him, keeping him upright in what was clearly a very pained walk.

Snap Wexley.

Poe's face must have given him away because Phasma spun and followed his gaze. "Your traitor?" she inquired mildly, voice bordering on amusement.

Poe felt his teeth clench. BB-8 made a sound uncannily like a growl. Snap was led to a flight of stairs, then out of sight.

Without considering his actions, Poe rose to a crouch. "Stay here," he ordered BB-8.

Phasma frowned, all humor forgotten. "Where are you going?"

"Find the others. I'll join you later."

"The mission-" Phasma began, but the commander had already slouched away, running for the far end of the hangar.

Phasma glared at his back. So much for his mission! She could not believe the utter lack of discipline. In a commander, no less! Kylo was here, somewhere. She could sense him. But now she was to search for Luke Skywalker's errant R2 unit instead? With nothing but a rebel droid for company? She'd just about decided to leave the annoying ball behind and complete her _own_ mission when FN-2187 appeared and dropped down behind the crates.

Phasma looked past him. "Where's the girl?"

He shrugged. His cheeks were flushed and he had a stupid grin on his face.

"What happened?" she demanded.

He looked away, but that grin grew a little more. BB-8 whistled.

Phasma rolled her eyes. Not an ounce of discipline in any of them! "Let's go," she snapped, taking her rifle in hand and pushing past FN-2187. "I don't care if I have to drag you, I will _not_ be the only one looking for that droid."


	27. Chapter XXVII

Reth-hem's lone pair of buildings were undeniably imposing above the surface. But if the Rebel infiltrators could have known how vast and labyrinthine the tunnels were beneath, they might very well have given up the search right then and there. Throughout the seemingly endless array of maintenance tunnels, the sandy stone walls reverberated, the constant hum from a series of transformers and inverters the planet's turbines fed into. The air was stale and always clouded with dust shaken loose from the roughly cut ceilings, filling the dark corridors. One such corridor terminated just beyond the above hangar's foundation, and opened through a stone arch into a large temple carved directly from the planet's rock.

The only light inside was the soft blue glow of a holoprojector, displaying the scarred, hairless face of Supreme Leader Snoke. His shadowy robes sagged on his body as he seemed to sag in his unseen chair. Still, his image towered over the two men standing before him.

"You aim to strike Resistance headquarters?"

"My stormtroopers will be there shortly, Supreme Leader," General Hux announced proudly, standing erect. "It will be our greatest triumph."

In direct contrast, Kylo Ren was slightly stooped, and muttered under his breath, "A triumph by fickle and untrustworthy equipment is hardly a triumph worth having."

Hux shot him a hateful glare. "My troops have been trained for this action since birth. They will not fail."

Snoke murmured, "You don't anticipate a sustained campaign?"

"The traitor arrived here without detection. The rebels are completely unaware of our approach, and will be annihilated without hope of a counterattack."

The wrinkled skin on Snoke's forehead lifted slightly, and he turned to Kylo. "General Hux promises success. You disagree?"

"Hux's soldiers are unpredictable and a liability. When my project here is complete, you will finally see what I have known all along: that the stormtrooper mechanism is obsolete."

General Hux spun toward Kylo, ready to argue, but Snoke spoke first, his booming voice whipping around the small chamber. "Your _project_ , Ren, may prove obsolete if his troops destroy the Resistance as Hux has promised. And in the meantime, you have _failed me_ in the one assignment I've demanded. _You have not brought me the girl._ "

"She cannot be sensed with the Force," Kylo replied. His eyes narrowed. "And the peace you promised from killing Han Solo has not materialized."

"That is because you are _weak_ ," Snoke spat. " _I_ can feel her presence on that very planet!"

Kylo straightened, a flicker of astonishment on his face.

The Supreme Leader's image leaned forward menacingly. "Find the girl, Ren, and bring her to me. Do _not_ fail me again."

Kylo bowed stiffly, his face a mask of resentment, then swept from the room.

General Hux faced the holoprojector. "You've prioritized this girl's capture, Supreme Leader. Please, in your wisdom, explain to me why she is necessary?"

Snoke's verbal lashing at Kylo seemed to have weakened him. For a long moment he said nothing, breathing heavily. Then, "She is powerful. Her abilities will secure my supremacy in the galaxy."

Hux nearly smiled. So _that's_ why Ren wanted her. This girl was the key to securing Snoke's approval, to gaining immeasurable privilege and influence. Now that the Resistance was all but destroyed, the new First Order would be unopposed in the galaxy, and the possibilities for power were boundless. By capturing this girl for Snoke, Ren would be the favored pupil, his position in the galaxy forever assured.

Not if Hux found her first.

"Let me be the one to find her for you, sir. I will not fail you. I have already secured our victory over the Rebellion, now let me win this for you."

Snoke was thoughtful. "Perhaps you can," he said at last. "I have long suspected Ren seeks the girl for himself. _You_ would find the girl for _me_."

This time, Hux did smile. He would best Ren at last. That feckless Knight of Ren would be cast off, ruined. Maybe even destroyed. Hux would bring the girl to Snoke. "I will do it, Supreme Leader. Let me get you this new warrior. Share with me your wisdom," he implored.

The Supreme Leader paused. His great bald head rolled back. "Ren cannot sense her..." he muttered softly, breathing deeply for a long minute. "But I can..." He closed his eyes. "And she can sense me..."

Hux didn't dare move, even as excitement coursed through him. He held his breath, ready for the Supreme Leader's instruction.

Snoke's eyes opened and he looked down at General Hux. Then past him.

"She is there."

Hux whipped around, but the shock of his quarry finding him first was nothing compared to what he felt upon seeing who stepped through the temple's entryway. Not some celebrated fighter, clad in Jedi robes or indestructible armor, highly trained, armed, and ready to face down her foes.

But his little sister, Rey.


	28. Chapter XXVIII

First Order Base on Reth-hem had been built almost fifteen years ago on Supreme Leader Snoke's command, to house an unspecified project for his mysterious new pupil, Kylo Ren. The timetable was short, and an unprecedented level of resources were put toward its rapid construction, then most of the assembly crew promptly executed to keep its purpose a secret. Before the recent need for an emergency base, the expansive facilities had never been utilized by any but its sole intended occupant. With its stark windowless walls, poor temperature regulation, unpadded floors and barren rooms, the buildings had not been designed for comfort. Beds were scarce, and necessities minimal. The infirmary was barely more than a converted storage closet.

Still, Snap Wexley knew he should be grateful there was an infirmary at all, toward which he was now being helped. He could use some serious painkillers. His head felt as if Kylo Ren had stripped him of his scalp, then his skull, then his very brain, before snapping them all back together again, not quite as they had once been.

He must have looked the same as he felt, because unless he was mistaken, the troopers supporting him on either side were being uncharacteristically gentle. Perhaps they felt sorry for him, or perhaps they were frightened, imagining themselves facing similar torture.

Or perhaps he was just imagining it.

After leading him – mostly carrying him – down two separate flights of stairs, they were just turning awkwardly on a landing when the trooper to his right suddenly vanished, causing the soldier on his left to stumble under the unexpected shift in weight. A muffled struggle, a sharp pang on the metal railing, then silence behind them. Barely three seconds had passed. The remaining stormtrooper was just turning around when he too disappeared. Snap felt his legs give and he sank to the floor.

There was a commotion, a strangled shout, then the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. Something told him not to look, but Wexley raised his head.

And instantly regretted it.

Hands seized him, lifting him with almost inhuman strength and slamming him against the wall. Wexley was stunned by the blow, stunned by the sight of the stormtroopers piled on the floor, and most of all stunned that Poe Dameron, of all people, was standing right in front of him.

"Where's Nien?" his former commander growled.

His mind may have been still fogged from the torture, but Nien was one subject his thoughts couldn't escape. The grief was enough to cut through his stupor. Wexley sagged. "He refused to give up the ship. He could have just allowed us to take him prisoner, but he wouldn't-"

Poe dragged him forward, then slammed him against the wall again. _"Traitor!"_

Wexley gave no resistance. "I know," he gasped, his face collapsing at the memory of Nien Nunb's lifeless body. He nodded weakly. "I know."

Poe looked like he wanted to strangle Wexley there and then, his face twisted into a blind rage, jaw clenched, breath hissing through his teeth. For a long moment, Wexley thought he might. But suddenly Poe stepped back, and Wexley slid down the wall to slump on the floor.

Hands flexing menacingly, Poe stood over him. "Everything we've done together, all the battles we fought side by side. I had your back and you had mine..." He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "When? When did you join the Dark Side, Wex?"

He gave a short laugh, surprising them both with the sneer in his voice. "That's the problem with you, Poe. It's not the Dark Side, or the Light Side. Don't you see? It's the _winning_ side." His head rolled back and he glared up at Poe. "Look around you!" He waved an arm weakly. "We can't defeat _this!_ How much have we sacrificed, how many years have we given the Resistance, and for what? This isn't betrayal, this is choosing to fight another day. To be alive when the war is done!"

"You want to guarantee your safety, you leave the battle, Wex. With our blessing or like a coward, but you don't join the other side," he spat.

"You don't understand!" Wexley struggled to his feet. "The First Order's undefeatable, Poe! Let me show you!"

Poe brought his blaster around. "I should kill you right here."

Wexley threw up his hands. "See what's in the factory, man," he pleaded. His gaze held Poe's. "Just look at what Snoke's been doing, and you'll see. You'll see I'm right."

For a long minute, neither man moved. Poe knew Wexley was just trying to buy more time, but he also knew he _did_ need to see what was in the factory next door. Ever since he'd first seen the massive building towering over the hangar, he was certain its contents were of immeasurable importance.

With a sharp jab of his weapon, he motioned for Wexley to take the lead.

Progress was slow. While he obviously was hoping for someone to come to his rescue, Wexley was also clearly a man in pain. He hobbled down hallways and through doors, shuffling onward as slowly as he dared, eventually drawing to a stop outside a blast door at the end of a short underground tunnel. So that's how the two buildings were connected.

Wexley rested his hand on the door lock and looked back at Poe. "You'll see I'm right," he began.

"Open the damn door," Poe retorted.

With a shrug that almost looked smug, Wexley pressed the lock and stood back as the door swung open. Poe tightened his grip on his blaster and gestured for Snap to go in ahead of him. His former friend limped through the opening. Slowly, he followed, edging through the door to find, despite the fact they were already underground, they were now standing on a catwalk overlooking a cavernous space below, and an even larger space above.

While the size of the factory had been evident from its exterior, the sheer expanse of it was stunning. And yet, upon seeing its contents, all thought of its size vanished from Poe Dameron's mind.

He breathed an awestruck curse.

With any luck, Finn and Rey had found R2D2 aboard the _Millennium Falcon,_ and were even now carrying his vital contents to safety. At that very moment, a few hours' lightspeed away, the First Order assault had already begun, and was facing shocking resistance from D'Qar, the forewarned Rebels having practiced such a defensive for nearly a decade. The surprise counterattack was proving pleasantly effective; one Star Destroyer was already partially disabled, while on the planet's surface all nonessential personnel had been whisked to safety. The Resistance had a very good chance of winning this battle.

But none of that mattered, Poe Dameron thought as he gazed upon what had been created here on Reth-hem.

They were going to lose this war.


	29. Chapter XXIX

The battle for D'Qar was already underway.

Finn watched with amazement from the control center on Reth-hem, First Order personnel scattered at his feet and around the room. On the monitors, the progress of the battle was encouraging. The rebels were holding their own – even disabling a Star Destroyer before it had fully reached D'Qar's airspace. So greatly outnumbered, the Rebellion would never have done as well without Poe's advanced warning. Outmaneuvered TIE-Fighter pilots were reporting heavy losses, their mechanical squawking filling the small command chamber.

But Finn couldn't relax. He looked away from the communications module to rescan the base's security feed. There was still no sign of Rey. She'd disappeared into the catacombs beneath the hangar armed with nothing but her staff, and as far as he could tell, hadn't returned. He longed to grab a few weapons and go after her, but without any cameras in the vast tunnels, it would be anyone's guess where she'd gone.

BB-8 whistled and Finn looked up. "What did you find?"

The droid squeaked and beeped excitedly, but Finn had no idea what he'd discovered with his scans. Something about clones? Or maybe he'd said drones? "I don't know droidspeak!" Finn cried in exaggeration.

"Forget the ball," Phasma ordered from her place by the door. "Get on the comms and direct the fleet to return to base."

Finn stared for a moment. "You think that'll work?"

"If you follow the proper protocols it might." Phasma checked the charge on her rifle before returning her gaze to the catwalk stairs just outside. "At the least it'll confuse them. At best it will save lives."

Finn returned to the communications module, hands hovering over the myriad buttons. Sweat broke out on his forehead. Could he do this? Every second he waited, Resistance lives were lost. Listening to the fighting, the inevitable destruction of X-wings and base personnel, Finn had never felt more overwhelmed. He couldn't help D'Qar, he couldn't find R2D2, he couldn't even find Rey!

"Droidspeak is more complicated than our command codes," Phasma snapped. "Surely even _you_ can manage it."

Finn spun around. "Why do you continue to challenge me, Phasma?"

"Why do you continue to need challenging?" she retorted. Pushing him roughly aside, she slapped a button. "Reth-hem base to flight command ordering all fighters back to their ships. Reth-hem base to Star Destroyer command ordering immediate withdrawal and return."

She released the button and instantly the comms were filled with a confused crackle of competing messages – commanders challenging the order, and fighters demanding clarification. "It's time you started helping others, Effen-Two-One-Eight-Seven, not just yourself."

Finn sputtered with offense as Phasma returned to her place at the door. "I haven't _helped others?_ "

"Not unless it helped you too," she replied coldly, eyes on the stairs. "Would you have even saved Poe on the _Finalizer_ if you hadn't needed a pilot?"

The comms continued to squawk with requests, but both ignored them. "I've helped a lot of people!" Finn declared. "You _killed_ for the First Order! You _tortured_ for them!"

"But I also saved as many as I could," Phasma replied. "Who have you saved?"

"I'll have you know," Finn retorted, "on Domandari, I tried convincing a friend to escape with me." But even to his ears this sounded pathetically hollow. One friend to escape? There were two dozen soldiers in his squadron, hundreds of men in his FN class, thousands of stormtroopers just like him. With families they'd never gotten to see, living lives they never chose. Just like him.

What about them?

A slight vibration in the metal floor caught Phasma's attention. She crouched silently, taking aim out the door with her blaster. "Incoming."

Finn quickly took position. For a moment, it was quiet, then gradually footsteps could be heard, bounding up the metal stairs. BB-8 rolled beneath the command module with a soft whimper.

Phasma called, "Clear!" a moment before Poe ran in, hands up and out of breath. "It's a clone army," he gasped, gesturing back down the stairs. "In the factory. They've built a clone army."

Phasma stood and scoffed. "That's nothing new."

"These are no ordinary clones," Poe insisted, clutching at his side.

Before Finn could ask him to clarify, Phasma was shrugging her indifference. "We'll destroy them before they can get off this planet."

Poe shook his head. "You don't understand!" He pointed toward the hangar. "Half of them already did!"

* * *

The mood in Resistance Central Command was mixed. While the battle was going better than could be reasonably expected, the rebels were still grossly outmatched. A quarter of their fleet was already grounded or destroyed. The First Order was close to getting a lander through their defenses, and when they did it would be a battle on two fronts; air and land.

Something had to give soon.

Major Ematt looked up from his station. "Nonessential personnel are safely away."

"At last," Leia sighed. Finally, good news. Those civilians, mechanical and technical experts with their service droids, would be well received at the small Resistance compound on nearby Malastare. And, if D'Qar was still standing when they arrived, Malastare could even send reinforcements, such as they were. Whatever else happened here today, the Resistance would not be completely eliminated.

"General!" Major Brance shouted in alarm. "We're receiving a communication from First Order base on Reth-hem."

"Poe," Leia said to herself. Stepping forward, she commanded, "Let it through."

Static burst through the comms speakers. _"-ander Poe Dameron-"_ the message began. _"-not be defeated- -cannot land on- -in the air-"_

"Commander Dameron!" Major Brance sent back. "Please clarify. Repeat your last."

 _"-must engage the enemy in the air-"_ Poe responded. _"-is absolutely vital-"_

"A small ship has just landed," Admiral Statura reported, watching over a tech's shoulder. But he clearly wasn't overly concerned. It was a small transporter, and the Rebels on the ground were well trained and knew what to do.

"Can you repeat that, Commander?" Major Brance was saying.

"What's this?" Admiral Ackbar said. He was staring at the strategy board with evident confusion. The others immediately crowded around the table, where a holographic image of D'Qar's forested grounds could be seen. At one end stood the small First Order lander, from which a dozen figures had just emerged. But the rebel fighters surrounding it were not attacking. In fact, everyone in the field appeared to have frozen in place.

Poe's message came through clearly this time, as did his panic. _"-thousands of them! It is a clone army that cannot be defeated! You cannot let them land!"_

"Clones," Admiral Statura breathed with stunned recognition. The masked holograms stood with hands raised toward the Resistance soldiers, long robes swirling around their lean frames.

Clones of Kylo Ren.


	30. Chapter XXX

She still wore her hair in a double loop, in the style their mother had insisted was the highest fashion at Galactic royal court. He could practically hear the woman complaining as she pulled a comb roughly through the little girl's hair, lamenting the loss of their fortunes and, more specifically, the servants who had once been paid to perform such a menial task. Rey had their father's dull brown hair, while Devrun had their mother's more vivid orange.

She was still wide-eyed, just like he remembered. He'd recalled that look countless times over the years. Like everything she saw fascinated her; like it all held some awesome secret. But the innocence he'd adored as a child was gone, replaced with a hardened resolve he recognized in himself.

And she carried a staff. A weapon in her hands looked foreign to him. She'd been raised for genteel life, to avoid hard labor and the abject practices of warcraft. When they left Jakku, their mother had ensured Rey's continued comfort by securing a suitable chaperon for her in their absence. But their mother had never returned to Jakku, as Hux knew all too well. A crime he sensed he was about to answer for.

"Rey," he breathed. "How is this? How can it..."

She was watching him with a look he couldn't read, but he felt himself smile in return, surprised at how pleasing it was to see her. Despite the hard conversations which would inevitably follow.

"Come in," Snoke purred, startling them both. Hux had quite forgotten the Supreme Leader's holographic presence.

After a moment's hesitation, Rey stepped forward into the temple, slow and silent. Watching her, Hux recalled Snoke's words only moments before: _"She is powerful. Her abilities will secure my supremacy in the galaxy."_

His smile vanished. His little sister was able to wield the Force? Hux shook his head to himself, unable to fathom it. Rey, gifted with the power of the Force, when he never was. When he had been drafted into the Academy and then _humiliated. Mocked. Scorned_ by the other students for possessing none of their talents. That promised training, which had been his one chance to get off Jakku, his one chance to make something of himself.

To be better even than his father.

Rey reached the outer edge of the holograph's glow. "Ah," Snoke murmured, once again bringing Hux to the present. The Supreme Leader gazed down at Rey with something like fatherly affection. "The Force is indeed strong in you." He tilted his head in evident appraisal. "Stronger than you know."

"Dev," Rey said, speaking for the first time. Her large brown eyes turned to him, pleading. "Come with me. Leave this place. Now."

Hux's perfect eyebrows tipped together in confusion. "Leave here?" he repeated. "Whatever for?"

His sister took a step toward him. "I know you don't want to do this. I know you don't want to be a part of..." She waved a hand toward Snoke. "...any of it." She took another step. "Come home with me."

"Home?" A painful flash of Jakku's yellow sanddunes came to mind and he very nearly took a step backward. Jakku, where they lived surrounded by ship graveyards, the pathetic reminders of the Empire's – and his father's – disgrace. Where Devrun Hux had sworn he'd never be so useless. So forgotten. If he had stayed, if he went back now, he'd be just like one of those ships, stuck in the sand forever, picked over by the worthless scavengers who swarmed that wretched planet like fleas.

Resentment colored his face. "I am home." He swallowed, remembering his mission. Straightened his spine against the painful memories she'd brought with her. "In fact, _you_ should join _me_." He reached out with a hand, offering it to her. "Let me show you a life our mother could never have given you."

Rey was the one who took a step back. "Devrun, you don't know what you're saying-"

"You could do so much with the First Order, Rey." His gloved fingers curled into a fist. "With your abilities, you could be more powerful than you've ever dreamed."

She drew back another step, eyes shimmering in the dim light. "This isn't you, Dev. You don't need to work for him, you don't need to hurt people. Not anymore."

Hux stalked toward her slowly. She sounded like their mother. Just before her death. "I _choose_ to be here, Rey. I _choose_ this life. This responsibility. This _control_. Join me, join _us_. Together, we will make this galaxy what it should be."

She was shaking her head, and a rage stirred in him. She was refusing a tremendous gift. She was throwing away everything _he_ wanted! Everything _he_ deserved! He'd fought and scraped his way to Snoke's high command, and here was his sister tossing it away like it was nothing!

"The academy," Rey was saying. "What Kylo Ren did... He only spared you because you promised loyalty, right? I'm sure you did what you had to after that, Dev. I don't blame you. No one could. But you don't have to keep that promise anymore. I'm here to tell you, you can be free."

Hux stopped in surprise, an arm's length away. He stared at her for a long minute, piecing together what she'd said, what she must have believed...

Finally, he sighed. "Dearest Rey," he murmured, bringing his hand up and running a fingertip over her cheek. "My darling sister." His cold eyes met hers. "It wasn't _Kylo Ren_ who destroyed the Jedi academy." He shook his head and smiled.

"It was me."


End file.
